Fitting In
by Agnes Robinson
Summary: Multi part AU Post Season 3 Getting it right never seemed so difficult, the right clothes worn the wrong way, trying to cheer up family members only to get more than he bargained for, you just never know what will happen when you're young and embrace change. Part II features Kieran and young Sybil are heavily featured. Part III is M rating features young Sybil. Part IV WWII.
1. Getting Dressed

**Hi All: This story was written post season three and before the Christmas Special. It is in three parts and takes many twists and turns you might not expect. Please read to the end of each chapter and don't make assumptions Part one is about Tom struggling to fit in his new life. Part II features Kieran Branson and Young Sybil as she grows up. Part III features Young Sybil as she decides what to do with her life when she grows up. Edith, Mary, Lord and Lady G and the Dowager Countess just keep showing up. Part IV is about the younger generation managing through WWII.**

Chapter One – Getting Dressed

Tom Branson pulled on the riding boots that had belonged to the fifth Earl of Grantham and regarded himself in the dressing mirror in the corner of his room. He looked the perfect Earl's son-in-law in the riding jacket, britches and helmet. The clothing was a bit old fashioned as it had belonged to Lord Grantham's father when he was a young man. Tom had put his foot down at the proffered frilly shirt, but the rest served the purpose for what Tom needed, or at least he hoped it would. "How did these aristocratic types wear some of this stuff," he thought to himself. "These britches are so tight they are indecent." The jacket he had on over a white shirt didn't come down far enough to hide anything. Wearing pants this tight on a regular basis would take some getting used to.

He sighed as he removed the helmet from his head, pushed back his hair, picked up his gloves and headed for the nursery to kiss his daughter good-bye before he left the house for the day. His new job as the Estate Agent required that he look the part. None of the tenants or villagers would ever take him seriously if he dressed as a field hand. He needed to inspect the pastures and there was no getting around it. The most logical way to accomplish the task was by horseback and to do that he was going to have to put his limited riding experience to work, dress up like a dandy and show off his backside for the entire world to see.

As he headed for the front door he spotted Thomas Barrow checking the clock in the main hall.

"Mr. Barrow, I'm expecting a large package delivered to the house in the next few days, please have it sent to the garage when it arrives," Tom said. He could feel his cheeks coloring slightly as Thomas Barrow regarded him in his riding clothes.

"Very well, Mr. Branson," Thomas replied with a small grin of appreciation as if he was perfectly aware of Tom's discomfort in his tight trousers. "Will there be anything else?"

"That's all. I won't be back until well after lunch."

"Very good, sir. I'll make sure Mrs. Patmore has been informed," Thomas replied with a syrupy smile.

Tom turned and strode out the front door. Thomas stood and watched him go. The two men had never gotten along particularly well when they had worked together. They had been civil to each other and spoken when necessary. Thomas had always suspected that Tom Branson didn't like him very much, but the man had kept to himself. No wonder when he had been chasing after the Earl's youngest daughter the entire time. Now that Tom Branson was an accepted member of the Crawley family their exchanges were even more distant than they had been before, although Thomas couldn't help but admire the way the other man could carry off formal attire as if he had been born to it. Tom Branson was quite a sight in those riding britches. "_The local lasses will have an eyeful today. He certainly made my day_," Thomas thought to himself as he turned and headed downstairs.

Tom Branson arrived at the stables and eyed the spirited collection of horses in the paddocks with trepidation. These animals were a far cry from the old plow horse he had ridden bareback at his Grandfather's every summer when he was a lad. He just hoped and preyed he could stay on long enough not to embarrass himself or break something if he was thrown.

Billy, one of the young grooms was waiting for him with a horse already saddled as Tom approached.

"Morning, Sir, I've saddled Morning Star for you. I hope she meets with your approval."

"Yes, she looks fine," Tom replied barely glancing at the mare. He was so nervous he was almost sick as he placed the riding helmet on his head and pulled on his gloves. Tom grabbed a handful of the horse's mane and was about to stuff his foot into the stirrup and mount when Billy's voice interrupted him.

"Aren't you going to adjust the stirrups, Sir?"

Tom groaned slightly at the question.

"And exactly how would I do that?" he asked with the blush rising to his cheeks yet again for the second time that day. For all he appreciated the trust Lord Grantham and Matthew had put in him by making him the estate agent, they couldn't have found anyone who felt more awkward with the lifestyle. Tom worked hard and he knew they appreciated his efforts but at the same time he was sure the staff both inside and outside had a good laugh at his expense on a regular basis as he fumbled through an array of activities that most of the middle class people in the area took for granted.

Tom's upbringing had been one of hard work and going without more often than not. When he had finally relented and played cricket for the first time in his life, he had enjoyed it, but he had been aware of the strange looks he received from the villagers at his complete lack of style or skill at the game. He and his brother had been lucky to have a ball to kick around in the streets when they were at home. In the summers he had been sent to his grandparents' where his life had been more work and very little play. The best part of the day had been when his grandmother called him in from weeding her massive vegetable garden and sent him to the fields to take his grandfather and the workers their lunch. He had ridden Betsy a retired plow horse out with the lunch in bags draped over her withers. To say he had ridden her to the field was a generous statement. Betsy had been well over thirty years old. The only way to stop the old mare from stopping to eat every blade of grass along the lane had been to smack her on the rump with a switch the entire way. Most of the time even the switch hadn't deterred the animal from a particularly appealing tidbit. Now he was standing here about to mount a highly bred animal with very little knowledge or skill at what he was about to attempt.

If Billy was surprised by Tom's statement he had enough sense not to show it. He calmly moved to Tom's side and showed him how to measure the stirrup length against his arm to get the length.

"If you mount from the block, Sir, I can adjust the stirrups for you once you're mounted."

"Yes, fine," Tom said blushing even more as he walked towards the block and waited while the horse was lead over.

"You won't have to worry about Morning Star, Sir," Billy said as he adjusted the straps and redid the buckles. "She's as gentle as a lamb."

"That's good to know," Tom replied.

"Forgive me for asking, Sir," Billy said looking up at Tom. "Have you ever ridden before?"

"A little and never with a saddle," Tom replied. He was sure his face was as red as a tomato.

Billy looked up at him with one eyebrow cocked.

"Right then, a little instruction before you go anywhere and you'll be just fine," Billy replied with a knowing smile.

-0-

Robert Crawley, the sixth Earl of Grantham was just leaving the library and heading for the stairs to change for dinner that evening when he spotted his son-in-law Tom Branson entering the Abbey through the front doors. The man was visibly drooping but straightened his back and walked forward to greet his father-in-law as though nothing were amiss the second he saw Robert.

"Tom, how was your day?" Robert inquired. "Did you get around to the fields you wanted to inspect?"

"My day was busy, thank you. I got around to most of the pastures. I'll have to go out again in a few days to check the ones on the south side of the estate." From the way Tom's muscles in his legs, back and abdomen were protesting from his day spent on horseback, Tom was sure he wouldn't be able to get his leg over a horse for at least the next two days.

"Did Leech set you up with a decent mount? Nothing too slow I hope?"

"The mare was fine. She did the job well enough," Tom replied. He didn't add that Leech, the head groomsman had informed him that starting tomorrow he would need daily riding lessons if he wasn't to embarrass the family by falling off his mount at the next hunt, or to quote Leech's exact words, "You'll fall on your arse like a sack of Irish spuds and make the house a laughing stock if I don't teach you a thing or two about riding and jumping." Tom had groaned inwardly but agreed to riding lessons early every morning for the next six weeks or so. His riding was dreadful and there was no way he had attempted anything beyond a slow trot today.

"Well, I'm just on my way up to change," Robert said. He noticed the younger man eyeing the stairs ruefully. "There's nothing wrong with you a hot bath and a good meal won't fix." He added with a cocked eyebrow and slight chuckle, when he sensed Tom's discomfort after a day of unaccustomed activity.

Tom only nodded slightly and started up the stairs, gritting his teeth against the screaming muscles in his legs. At the moment he had no idea how he was going to get up the stairs and into the bath, let alone dressed for dinner in a reasonable time. "_These toffs are all a little insane,"_ he thought as he began the slow steady ascent to the upstairs. "_I wish my parcel would get here sooner than later."_


	2. Talk of the Village

Chapter Two – The Talk of the Village

"Leech tells me you're doing quite well with the riding lessons," Edith remarked to her brother-in-law a few days later while they were having breakfast.

"He's being kind," Tom said disparagingly. "Another few weeks and I should be able to manage on horseback around the estate well enough, but I think it will be a long while before I could ride to the hounds without killing myself."

"You'll get on to it sooner than you think," Robert commented from behind his paper.

"Mary tells me you've created quite a stir among the young ladies in the village," Matthew commented before he quickly took a bite of his toast and jam. He was trying hard not to laugh.

"I can't think why, although I do hear a lot of giggling whenever I ride by," Tom replied. "I thought they found my horsemanship rather lacking for an Estate Agent."

"What's this?" Robert said lowering his paper slightly and frowning at the younger men.

"I don't think it has anything to do with your horsemanship, it has more to do with you wearing Robert's father's riding clothes," Matthew said. "Apparently they are quite scandalous."

"I highly doubt anything my father ever wore could be considered scandalous," Robert replied with a flick of his newspaper. "Tom is dressed as he aught."

"I did catch my maid peering out the window and giggling the other day when Tom rode by," Edith said. "Perhaps you had best let us see what you've been wearing, Tom."

Tom blushed profusely and almost choked on his tea.

"The clothes are rather tight. Mosely assured me they are supposed to fit like that."

"Still, you had best let us have a look. Edith can always run into Ripon with you and pick out something else. It's not like you won't be riding regularly for your work," Matthew replied.

"Oh, all right," Tom said in disgust while getting up from the table. "I'll go put them on. I have a lesson in half an hour. I've been expecting a parcel that hasn't shown up yet. I'll just go make a call then get changed."

Ten minutes later Matthew and Edith knocked on Tom's bedroom door. When the door opened and Tom stepped onto the landing it was Edith's turn to blush.

"Oh my," she uttered before she could catch herself.

Edith had never seen a man fill out riding clothes quite like her brother-in-law. There wasn't a spare once of flesh on his body. The britches clung to his legs and backside like a second skin. The jacket accented his body to a T. There was no denying the man exuded raw sex appeal that would draw even the most cynical feminine eye.

"Well, what do you think?" Tom questioned them when both Matthew and Edith hadn't uttered a sound.

Matthew snapped his jaw shut, before he answered. "The clothing is adequate but I think it might be prudent if Edith accompanied you into Ripon this afternoon for a shopping trip."

"It might be best," Edith said with a wrinkled brow. The blush still hadn't faded from her cheeks. "_If he parades around here like that on a regular basis there isn't a maid on the place that will get a thing done_," she thought to herself. "_I might find myself peeking out the windows as well_."

Tom groaned. "I knew Mosely was lying about the fit," he muttered.

"Actually he wasn't," Edith replied. "You just fill them out a little better than Grandpapa ever did. I'm sure we can find you something else to suite you better. Maybe a nice tweed?"

"Or something in black," Matthew added while trying to keep a straight face at the look on Tom's face at a shopping trip at Edith's mercy. Matthew quickly headed down the hall and into the room he shared with his wife Mary before he broke out laughing and hurt Tom's feelings.

"What's so funny?" Mary questioned when Matthew entered the room and started laughing once the door was closed.

"Tom's riding outfit. It belonged to your grandfather," Matthew said while wiping the tears from his eyes. "If Cousin Violet had seen him in her husband's clothes it would have finished the old girl on the spot. You should have seen the look on Edith's face."

"That bad?" Mary questioned.

"No, that tight," Matthew said with a chuckle. "A button might have shot off and hit her in the eye."

"Oh, I'm sorry I missed it. You know my sister didn't just marry him for his political rhetoric or his driving ability," Mary said with a slight smirk.

"And what did you marry me for?" Matthew questioned Mary as she got up from the vanity table and moved back across the room towards him.

"You'll just have to decide that for yourself," Mary replied as she slid her arms around Matthew's neck and kissed him squarely on the mouth.

-0-

Edith stood back and regarded Tom as he twisted this way and that looking at himself in the mirror at men's tailoring shop in Ripon. Tom had on a black thigh length frock coat over a wine colored vest with riding pants that were a much looser fit. The tailor had proffered a black hat to go with it all but Tom had opted for a riding helmet. The last thing he needed to think about was loosing a fancy hat while trying to control his mount.

"I don't know what to think," Tom said. "I don't know the first thing about riding attire. The jacket is certainly longer than the one I've been wearing."

"Well, I do know something about riding attire and with a tailored riding jacket no one will ever know you haven't been riding all you life."

"Honestly Edith, this one is fine. It is for work after all."

"What would Sybil have said?"

"She would have scolded me for the wrinkles in my suit and laughed at my dislike of shopping. In the end she would just pick out something she liked." Tom replied with a sad smile.

"Well, then you'll just have to let me do the picking. We'll take that jacket and have Mosely or Bates do any alterations. Is that a fair compromise?"

Tom nodded his acceptance.

By the time they had finished up at the tailor shop, been by the boot maker to order a pair of new riding boots for Tom and taken care of the few errands Edith had for her mother and grandmother it was tea time.

"Let's go to a pub," Tom said.

"I've never been to a pub in my life," Edith replied her eyes growing round. "I always go to Mrs. White's shop for tea."

"You've taken me round your way, now it's my turn," Tom replied with a small grin. "No one there is going to bite."

"Granny did tell me to have some fun," Edith replied starting to smile. "Alright, let's go. If I am going to be a modern woman of the world that includes eating in a pub."

Edith found herself enjoying Tom's company while they ate. He had gone to the bar and returned with two glasses of ale and told her he had ordered their meal.

"Isn't there a menu?" Edith asked.

"No, you just get whatever the special is for the day. Less fuss that way."

"Oh," Edith eyed the drink ruefully. "What is it?"

"Ale."

"Should we be drinking so early in the day?"

"Edith, loosen up a bit. Your father isn't hiding behind the bar about to jump out and scold you at any second. Besides there is enough wine served with dinner at the house it's a wonder anyone can walk away from the table in a straight line."

Edith couldn't help but smile at her brother-in-law's statement as she took a sip of the drink. The conversation turned to the changes Tom was involved in on the estate with Edith asking questions that she knew were unwelcomed in her father's presence.

"How do you plan to deal with keeping people employed?" Edith asked.

"I think the key is to attract more people to the businesses in the village. The more clients the local businesses have the better to support a larger range of services. New trades are needed to deal with changes in machinery and the more modern inventions. As well we need to establish new markets for the farms. It would increase the need for lorry drivers, mechanics to maintain the vehicles and a host of other jobs."

"You've obviously put a lot of thought into all of this. I've never thought much about running the estate but I do see what you mean. I'm afraid Papa would not welcome any of my opinions or ideas."

"You have two brothers-in-law who would," Tom replied with a small smile.

"You are so different away from the house," Edith commented.

"You mean when I don't have your father rolling his eyes at almost every comment I make that isn't about work," Tom said with a small laugh. "Then again maybe I should change that to rolling his eyes even when my comments are about work or anything else."

"I know that look well, but in my case it's Granny and Papa," Edith said with a laugh. "Perhaps I could accompany you out on the estate from time to time. I might get a few ideas for my column."

"You are perfectly welcome. You never know, perhaps you'll turn into a lady farmer."

"Hardly that, but I do need something to do and it is difficult to find something productive to do with my time that isn't about charity work. I did think all the food shortages during the war and afterwards were ridiculous especially when we live in the middle of an estate and are perfectly capable of growing and producing our own."

"Maybe we just live in a world that is ridiculous," Tom teased.

"Perhaps we do," Edith said with a laugh as she dug into her meat pie.

Late the following week Thomas Barrow, under butler opened the front door to Downton Abbey to find a lorry driver standing on the doorstep with a receipt book in his hand.

"I've a delivery for a Mr. Tom Branson," the driver said while he stood on the doorstep rocking back and forth on his heels. He was anxious to get the crate off his truck and back to the depot for his next delivery of the day.

"I'm afraid you've missed him and deliveries are around back," Thomas Barrow replied. "Since you're already here and Mr. Branson has been expecting the parcel, I will sign for it. You can drop it at the garage in the work yard."

"What's going on?" Came from behind Thomas as Lord Grantham approached the door.

"The parcel Mr. Branson was expecting has arrived Milord."

"What the devil is it?" Lord Grantham questioned the driver while peering at the large box. The crate had a bunch of numbers on it and army surplus marked in large letters on each side. Whatever it was, the box was huge and filled the entire back of the lorry.

"I don't ask what's in 'em. I just delivers 'em," the man replied as Thomas handed back the bill of lading.

As the lorry began to pull away in a cloud of dust and head for the garage, Robert turned to find Carson standing just behind him.

"Any thoughts as to what might be in the crate, Mr. Barrow?" Carson inquired.

"None at all Mr. Carson, your Lordship. If you'll excuse me," Thomas said as he headed away from the door.

"These young people, Carson, I just can't keep up with them. You never know what they'll do next," Robert complained to his head butler.

"I quite agree, milord. Let's just hope it is not something disgraceful."

"One can only hope," Robert Crawley replied. Robert had come to find out Tom's riding attire had been the talk of the village. The chatter had finally started to die down now that Tom had something more current to wear, although Robert had come to notice there was a line of female heads poking over walls or around corners every time Tom rode by.

Just last week Tom Branson had talked Robert into accompanying him to a meeting with the local businessmen's association and engaged in a discussion of ways to attract more customers to the local shops. Robert had remained quiet through most of the discussion but had been surprised by the range of ideas the local businessmen had presented and Tom's engagement in the group. It wasn't how Robert's father had conducted his affairs but as his wife Cora was fond of reminding him, times had changed and the old ways no longer stood. Goodness only knew what Tom or Matthew would come up with next.


	3. Going for a Ride

Chapter 3 – Going for a Ride

"Lord Grantham, I'm not sure how making a count of homeless veteran's in the area will change anything. I can't see how anything can be done," Reverend Travis stated.

"My daughter, Lady Edith is quite concerned about the situation as she should be. Right now the priority is to establish if there are men who have served their country in need in the area. Whether or not anything can be done for them is a moot point until the numbers are identified."

"Very well, Lord Grantham, if that is your wish," Reverend Travis replied.

Robert Crawley was just concluding his meeting with the Reverend Travis after he had walked down to the village. It was a clear day in late fall and he had wanted to walk his dog Isis after the last three days of steady rain. As Robert walked back down the lane towards the Abbey with Isis by his side he heard the steady whine of a machine coming closer. It certainly didn't sound like a car. Whatever it was the sound was drawing nearer at a terrific clip. As Robert turned to see what the sound was his jaw dropped open. He didn't have long to stare as Isis started barking madly and would have charged towards the contraption if Robert hadn't stilled her with a word and a hand on her collar. With a roar Tom Branson pulled the motorcycle he was driving to a stop and pulled his goggles down.

"Good gracious! What on earth are you riding?" Robert burst out.

"I got her surplus. Isn't she grand?"

The word Triumph was written across what Robert could only guess was the gas tank on the noisy contraption.

"What ever possessed you to purchase such a thing?" Robert said still confused.

"I though a motorcycle would be more economical and versatile on the back roads for getting around the estate. It costs a fraction of what the car does to operate. I've already arranged to sell the Estate Agent's car. There are enough cars at the house for the days when it's raining or I need to take Sibby with me anywhere. I go by horseback when I need to check the fields. Driving a motor vehicle on the pastures damages them," Tom answered.

"Isn't it rather dangerous?" Robert asked still eyeing the motorcycle with hesitation.

"No worse than a spirited horse, maybe even a little safer. It won't kick you in the head," Tom answered with a grin. "You should give it a go."

"I think I'll pass," Robert replied.

"I best be off," Tom said. "I'm going to check on the roof we just had replaced on one of the buildings. I wanted to make sure it didn't leak in the rain."

"Right-o," Robert replied in parting. He watched Tom shift the bike into gear and tear off down the lane. Robert could only shake his head. His son-in-law was a constant topic of gossip in the county and if he didn't miss his guess this latest development would be a hot topic in the local pubs for the next fortnight.

By the time Tom had checked on the building with the new roof, completed a few other errands and headed back, he was starting to feel the cold. The wind in his face bit at his cheeks and his fingers were starting to go numb as he gripped the handlebars. His thighs felt as though they were covered in ice but he didn't care. He felt free and in control for the first time in months. Ever since he had been banned from his beloved Ireland he had been conforming to his in-laws world first for his wife's sake and after her death for his daughter's. As he whizzed by the colored autumn foliage in a blur he threw back his head and laughed. For a few minutes he was the master of his own destiny, damn the cold and discomfort. There was no place he would rather be.

All too soon he was pulling into the garage at Downton Abbey and shutting down the engine. He took off the goggles and drapped them over the handlebars. "_I had best wear warmer clothes next time_," Tom thought to himself as he removed his gloves and blew on his fingers to warm them. He might not get too much use out of the bike this winter, but come next spring it would be his main mode of transportation.

"How is the new motorcycle," Matthew asked that night over dinner.

"It's perfect," Tom replied. "You'll have to give it a go."

"I think I'll stick to my car for now, thanks. I don't know how my clients would take to their solicitor whizzing around the countryside on a motorbike," Matthew replied.

"It looks rather dangerous," Robert contributed.

"What's this?" the Dowager Countess asked.

"Tom's bought a motorcycle for getting around the estate, Cousin Violet," Matthew replied.

"A what?" the Dowager asked with a puzzled look.

"A type of bicycle with an engine but larger, Lady Grantham," Tom answered. "It came with a sidecar as well but so far I haven't had anyone willing or interested to try riding in it."

"It sounds rather exciting, if you ask me," Edith chimed in.

"All the excitement and trills of a traveling circus act," the Dowager stated.

"Oh Granny, it's all part of modernizing," Mary said, trying to smooth some ruffled feathers.

"Well, I'll go for a ride if no one else wants to," Edith stated.

"Edith, what will people say if they see you riding in that sort of contraption," the Dowager demanded.

"The same thing they always say, Granny. _There goes the spinster from the Abbey_ if they say anything at all."

"I'm heading over to the other side of the estate tomorrow," Tom said. "If you want to come along, I'll put on the side car as long as it's not raining."

"It sounds lovely," Edith replied. "I haven't been over there in simply ages. I'll have Mrs. Patmore pack us a lunch, then we won't have to hurry back."

"Dress warm, it's a tad colder than you might expect," Tom replied.

"I don't know if I like the idea of you gadding about on that contraption of Tom's, Edith," Robert commented.

"Now Robert, Tom drove us all about for years and you never batted an eye lash. I'm sure Edith will be perfectly safe," Cora contributed.

"_And cold,"_ Tom thought to himself with a slight smirk.

The following day dawned bright and cool. A heavy dew had settled on the grass and the mist rolled across the fields in the morning light. The temperatures weren't cold enough for frost yet, but from the bite in the air it wouldn't be long.

Edith's eyes opened wide when she met Tom at the garage. Edith had stopped by the kitchen to collect their picnic basket. The sight that greeted her made her pause and wonder exactly how safe the motorbike and the wicker sidecar were. When Tom turned and spotted her with a wide boyish grin of excitement, Edith gritted her teeth and stepped forward. After all the grief and pain Tom had been through this year, if riding around for a day in the side car was what it would take to cheer him up, she would do it.

"It's not quite what I expected," Edith said as way of greeting.

"There's nothing to be worried about," Tom replied. "These machines were nicknamed the "Trusty Triumph" during the war. They made thousands of them. It's a tried and true machine."

"If you say so," Edith replied hesitantly.

Tom was busy pulling on his gloves. Today he had worn a scarf and thick wool vest under his jacket. A winter hat and his older pair of riding boots made up his biking gear for today. He started the bike then helped Edith into the sidecar and handed her a pair of goggles and a wool blanket to put over her lap. Edith had to hold their lunch on her lap as there was nowhere else to put it.

"It's a lark and goes at a terrific clip, but it is rather cold once we get going" he told her.

Tom took a few practice turns around the yard before they headed off towards their destination for the day. Despite the racket of the engine and the cold wind blowing in her face Edith found herself enjoying the experience. Her face was cold and she was glad of the goggles, but the blanket provided enough protection that she wasn't chilled to the bone. The trees, fences and country lanes flew by at a terrific pace and they arrived at their destination in record time.

"That was rather exciting," Edith said with a smile once Tom had switched off the engine.

"I'm afraid the rest of the day will be rather boring," Tom remarked. "I've got to check on at least ten tenant cottages and take a look at the livestock barns to make sure they are in good repair for winter."

"I don't think it will be boring at all," Edith replied. "Besides you've saved me from accompanying Mary and Mama to yet another dress fitting. That is the very definition of boring."

Tom gave her a crooked grin before he pulled his notebook and pencil out of his pocket and they headed to the first of his stops for the day. At midday Tom returned to the bike to retrieve their lunch and met Edith at the barn.

"Not a very elegant place to eat, I'm afraid," he said. "I think the barn is in much better repair than some of these cottages though."

"That doesn't concern me," Edith replied good-naturedly. "I'm rather enjoying being out and seeing this part of the estate."

They spread their lunch out on a crate and found another two crates that weren't too dirty to sit on.

"I noticed an orchard behind the cottages," Edith commented. "Do you know what happens with the fruit?"

"As far as I know nothing," Tom replied. "The people who lived here once picked it, but now all the cottages have been left to ruin and it will take some time to fix them up for rental."

"I wonder how many orchards there are on the estate."

"I'm not sure, but I could find out," Tom commented. "Why would you like to know, any bright ideas of what to do with them?"

"I was noticing when I was in London the last time how costly the price of jams and preserves was. When I saw that orchard just sitting there, it occurred to me that this could possibly be one of the expanded markets you were talking about."

"I don't know. I'll find out about the orchards. I think it would take some research to find out if there is anything we could do to sell the fruit or if there would be a way to make preserves and sell them to the markets in London or the other cities."

"I would be happy to do some research for you," Edith said suddenly looking down at her half eaten sandwich and waiting for the rejection that she was so used to from her family.

"I would appreciate it if you would and I'm sure Matthew would as well," Tom replied.

"You don't think my idea is silly?" Edith questioned still not quite believing anyone would take her seriously.

"No I don't. It's rather smart. You've identified something on the estate that may be a source of potential revenue. It's not silly at all," Tom said before taking a drink from his ginger beer. After a minute Tom spoke again.

"Edith, do you mind if I ask you something?"

"What is it?" Edith said while toying with her food and eating slowly.

"Why were you marrying Sir Anthony?"

Edith looked up quickly to see Tom regarding her. He wasn't looking at her with the pity she had expected, rather he wore a look of sincerity.

"There were a lot of reasons really," Edith said at last. "I want a home and family, like anyone else. I get tired of being alone. I live surrounded by family, but my opinion counts for nothing most of the time. I'm rather invisible. Just once I would like to be special to someone."

"Did you love him?"

"I think I was more fond than anything else," Edith admitted. It was the first time she had ever admitted anything along those lines to anyone and here she was pouring her heart out to her brother-in-law who until very recently most of her family had despised.

"I wanted to tell you how very sorry I was he did that to you on the day, but I couldn't really" Tom said. "I didn't think you would have wanted to hear anything I had to say."

"Well, I do now," Edith replied quietly.

"What I wanted to say to you back then and still do is," Tom took a deep breath before he continued. "Stop doing what your family expects and do what you think is right. You're opinion does matter. It matters a great deal."

"It's nice to know my opinion matters to someone," Edith said quietly.

"It does. I'm glad you came to our wedding. It mattered a great deal to your sister and to me too."

"Well, enough of this serious talk," Edith said suddenly brightening and finishing her ginger beer. "What else do you have to look at today?"

"Just a bit more then we'll head back."

"Let's go back the long way," Edith suggested. "I rather enjoyed the ride here."

"All right, you're on," Tom said with a smile as they packed up the picnic and went to stow the basket back in the sidecar.

On the ride back to the Abbey they took a side rode with a series of twists and small hills. Edith laughed in delight when Tom gunned the engine as they neared the top of each hill and then allowed them to coast down the opposite side. They were both laughing and windblown with red faces from the cold when they arrived back at the house.

"Thank you for taking me," Edith said happily before she headed into the house to get ready for the evening. "I had a lovely time."

"Anytime," Tom replied. "I was glad of the company."

Tom watched Edith as she headed back to the house. He was glad of the company. Today was the first day since his wife's death he hadn't felt quite so alone.


	4. Wiping Away the Tears

Chapter 4 – Wiping Away the Tears

It had been over two weeks since Edith had gone out with Tom on the motorcycle. The days had turned cold and rainy forcing Tom to reluctantly store the motorcycle for winter. Edith was still writing for the Sketch but she had avoided any contact with the editor. She wasn't comfortable entering into a relationship with a man who wasn't free regardless of the circumstances. The mess she had gotten herself into with John Drake had taught her a lesson. Sometimes she questioned why all of the men she seemed to attract were either married, after her family's money or absolutely ancient.

Tom's riding lessons were progressing slowly with the rain. Leech had declared his riding was now good enough to get around the estate but Tom would still require twice weekly riding lessons to be fully prepared by spring when he would be doing a considerable amount of riding on the estate.

It hadn't taken Edith long to discover the cost of paying workers and to harvest the fruit in the five orchards on the estate and shipping it to markets outweighed the price of what they could sell it for.

"It's ridiculous," Edith told Tom, Matthew and Mary one afternoon over lunch when her parents were out. "I checked with the head gardener. Whatever fruit isn't used for the house is used as feed for the livestock. There must be something that can be done with it, especially as the price of preserves is so high in the shops and there are shortages since the war. Almost everything in the shops is imported. It can't possibly be cheaper to bring cans of jam all the way from America or India than to produce it here in England."

"There's another five tenant farms with orchards on the estate," Tom volunteered. "They all have the same issue."

"It seems you have stumbled on a conundrum," Matthew said. "Any suggestions Edith?"

"It seems the solution is to turn the fruit into a product that can be sold, perhaps preserves or bottled cider," Edith replied.

"So what you're suggesting is a small local cannery or a bottling works?" Matthew asked. "It will take quite a bit of research to find out if it is a practical solution."

"I have lot's of time on my hands and I'm happy to do it," Edith replied. "The column only takes up a small part of the hours in a day."

"If you need any help with your research, let me know," Matthew said. "Once we have a better idea of what would be involved we can talk to Robert about it."

"You're doing a fine job, Edith," Tom commented. "If there's a solution you'll find it."

"You're turning into quite the professional woman," Mary said. "It suites you."

"Why Mary, thank you," Edith said, beaming at the praise from the younger generation.

Just after Christmas Edith, Matthew and Tom had the facts and numbers together to present the idea of a small cannery on the estate to Robert.

"It seems the most practical solution," Edith had told the others.

When they approached Robert, he was stunned by the detail of the research that included ever detail of glass jar suppliers, costs, and the types and variety of products that could be produced from the available produce and the return for each type of product.

"This is quite amazing," Robert proclaimed. "It speaks to the needs of our tenants as well as providing employment for the villagers. I must say well done Matthew."

"I can't take any credit for this, it was entirely Edith's idea," Matthew replied.

"And Edith's research," Tom added giving Edith a small smile of encouragement.

"You've done very well, Edith," her father said crossing over to give her a small kiss on the cheek. In a way he was glad to see Edith taking an interest in the family business instead of taking part in an occupation he didn't wholly approve of. Her weekly column still rankled his nerves. It was hard to admit. The more he pushed her away from an occupation the more determined she became. His pushing had cost him a long absence from his youngest daughter's life. It had been a hard bitter lesson and cost him time he could never reclaim.

"I'm not sure how to proceed with all this," Edith said. "Should we hire someone to set up and run the operation or contract a separate company? I'm really not sure how it would all work."

"Perhaps we should set up a meeting with Mr. Murray to determine the next step?" Matthew suggested.

The meeting broke up with Edith answering more questions from her father and a conspirator's wink from Tom before he left the room.

The Christmas holidays came and went that year. For Tom it was a hard one mixed with the joy of baby's first Christmas and the small reminders of the only holiday he had spent with his wife. As he held his daughter while she cooed and cawed at the bright baubles on the tree he couldn't help but contrast it all to small tree he and Sybil had decorated together with homemade ornaments in their Dublin flat. The servant's ball in January had been awkward in the extreme. The majority of the staff still didn't speak to him or acknowledge his presence. He had danced with the Dowager, his mother-in-law and both of his sisters-in-law before taking a turn around the floor with his daughter's nanny. He quickly made his excuses and headed upstairs to spend the rest of the evening playing with his daughter. He understood what Edith had meant about living in a house surrounded by people and at the same time drowning in loneliness. This life of elegance and formal living made what you really wanted to say on a daily basis impossible to express.

He had been lonely when he was the chauffeur. Almost no one on the estate had sought him out, but he had always been able to join the others in the servants' hall. Now he was the Estate Agent, part of the family. Tenants and villagers were cordial but treated him with deference. Other than Matthew he had no friends in the area. The only one who listened to him was his daughter and for all that mattered he could have been reading to her from a volume of Shakespeare for all she understood. For now it would have to do.

-0-

Edith stepped down from the train after a two-day trip to London and sighed. Why did her adventures into the world of romance always end in disaster, she asked herself. By the time she arrived back at the Abbey, she was exhausted. Her editor at the Sketch had asked her out yet again, this time she had agreed to go to dinner with him. Afterwards he had asked her to come back to his apartment. When she had refused his invitation he had informed her that if she didn't accept her services at the paper would no longer be required. Edith had thrown down her napkin and walked out of the restaurant and out of her job at the Sketch for good. She knew it was for the best, but she couldn't help feeling a deep sense of loss for her column.

"Why am I always so gullible and stupid," she said aloud to her empty room. It wasn't a bad day for early spring. The sun was out and the trees were starting to bud. She picked up her coat and headed out to the garden to blow away the cobwebs and think over her options. When she reached her favorite bench in the garden she sat down and twisted her gloves in her hands. She had been heavily involved in setting up the new cannery and hadn't really had a great deal of time for the column this last while.

"So why does it have to hurt so much?" she asked herself as the hot tears rolled down her cheeks.

"Because some things just do," was spoken in a soft Irish voice from a few feet away.

Tom stood in front of her holding the reins of the mare he rode regularly.

"I saw you come out to the garden as I was going by," he said quietly. "What happened in London, Edith?"

"Oh Tom, it was just awful," Edith said as he took a seat beside her. He smelled of horse sweat and shaving cream and ever so slightly of baby powder. It was a scent Edith had come to expect when she was near him and in that moment it struck her how much he was a part of her home. The tears started to flow in earnest and not a word would come out of her throat as it closed around her pain.

"Come now, it can't be all that terrible," Tom said as he slipped an arm around her and pulled her close.

Edith buried her face in his shoulder and left the tears fall.

"The editor at the sketch….asked me to…oh I can't say it," she gasped out between sobs. "When I refused he fired me…actually, I walked out. I just feel so stupid."

"You're a far cry from stupid, Edith," Tom said as he held her. One hand stroked her hair in comfort as he would a small child. "Maybe a tad too trusting, but that isn't a bad thing."

He pulled a hanky from his pocket and handed it to her to wipe her tears.

"Here wipe your tears," he said. "There has been enough of those around this place to last a life time."

"You're right. I'm being silly really. I don't really have enough time these days for the column. It was just everything else. I must look a fright."

"You look like a woman who needs a little fun in her life," Tom said suddenly changing the subject. "It's a nice day. What do you say you go and get changed and we take the bike out for a spin? It's still early. We can drive over to Malton for dinner."

"Why Tom Branson, are you asking me on a date?" Edith said jokingly. She suddenly felt none of the tiredness that had gripped her when she got off the train.

A slow grin spread across Tom's face that made the corners of his eyes crinkle.

"I just might be," he joked back. "Don't spread it around or you'll have all the girls around these parts after me to give them a ride on my motorbike."

"You know I'm the only one brave enough to ride on that thing with you," Edith said with a laugh.

"That you are," Tom said still smiling as he mounted and headed for the stables.

"_Christ, what did I just do,"_ Tom thought to himself as he walked back to the house. "_I just asked my sister-in-law on a date, or at least I think I did._" He hadn't asked a girl on a date in years. The last time had been well before he met his wife. Other than to ask Sybil to marry him, he had never asked her out. At least Edith seemed to think it was a joke. Well, maybe it was or maybe they both just needed a little cheering up and some time away from the hot house of emotion that made up life at the Abbey.

He was relieved to see Edith come down the stairs in a casual dress and carrying a heavy coat and scarf forty-five minutes later.

"I didn't think we'd be going anywhere formal, especially with the motorbike," Edith commented when she joined Tom in the hall.

"No, maybe to a pub. I don't want to be too late on the back roads with the bike," Tom replied.

He was starting to look forward to their outing and a chance to really open the Triumph up and blow the winter dust off.

"You game to go fast?" he asked her before they set off.

"The faster the better," Edith replied with a smile before they sped away from the front of the Abbey.

"Good Lord," Carson exclaimed as he watched Tom and Edith tear off down the drive at almost full speed before they made it out the gate. "He'll kill the both of them and bring shame on this house with that infernal machine. I just know it."

"Lady Edith could use a little fun," Thomas Barrow commented from behind Mr. Carson. He had come to investigate when he heard the racket of the motorbike out front.

"If you call that fun," Carson grumped.

"I would," Thomas replied with a small smile. "_Especially if Mr. Branson was driving in his old riding britches,"_ he added to himself.


	5. The Best of Intentions

Chapter Five – The Best of Intentions

"You're still claiming you've never played darts before?" Tom questioned Edith as she neatly pinned her third dart onto the board and won their game.

"Never," Edith replied. "That makes two games for me. The bet was the cost of our dinner, now the tab belongs to you."

Tom just chuckled as they made their way back to their table as the meal was emerging from the back room. The plates of roast beef, Yorkshire puddings, carrots and field peas were a welcome site as Tom asked the server to bring them two bottles of Guinness.

"What kind of drink is that?" Edith inquired as she placed the rough napkin in her lap and began cutting the meat elegantly in stark contrast to the other pub diners who were wolfing their meals down.

"A strong one," Tom replied with a grin. "The right stout to go with your meal. Something like wine selection but different."

"Should I be putting my trust in you?" Edith replied with a teasing smile.

"Worried I might turn you into a Republican over a pint?" Tom teased back.

Edith only shook her head and smiled as she dug into her meal. It wasn't long and two of the bar inhabitants approached Tom to challenge them to a game of darts.

"You and your lady friend care to play for a round of drinks?" the one man inquired.

"Why not?" Edith replied. "It's not like I'd have to pay. You've already lost one bet, Tom." She couldn't help teasing Tom a little more.

"This bet I don't intent to loose," Tom replied with a grin as he got up from the table and reached to help Edith up from her seat.

It was a close game, but in the end Tom and Edith won by two points.

"You're a shark," Tom informed her.

"What's that?" Edith asked as she took a sip from her third drink of the evening. The room was starting to spin slightly and she couldn't care less at the moment about her disastrous trip to London.

"Someone who plays well, but pretends they can't."

"Just chalk it up to beginner's luck," she replied before she raised a hand to cover a hiccup.

Just then a few musicians that had straggled in started to play a tune.

"Want to take a spin around the floor before we head home?" Tom asked her.

"Of course," Edith said as she finished the last of her drink and headed out onto the dance floor with Tom. The dance area was a bit crowded and the style of dance was new to Edith as they moved this way and that around the floor. She clung to Tom's shoulder and held on for dear life. When the music finally ended she almost collapsed against him in laughter until a burly man approached them.

"Care for a turn?" he demanded of Edith.

"No thank you," Edith replied barely glancing at the man.

"What's the matter, think you're too good for the rest of us with your fancy manners?" the man demanded.

"The lady has declined your invitation, now that's the end of it," Tom said quickly moving Edith behind him and staring the man down.

"Why you insolent Mick," the man bellowed as he cocked his fist. Tom was bracing himself for the blow when suddenly the bully was grabbed from behind and pulled towards the door.

"That's enough of that John Andrews or I'll summon the constable," the barkeeper informed the bully as he was drug backwards. As the two men threw the bully out the door onto the street, Tom turned back towards Edith to make sure she was alright.

"You all right, then?" he inquired of his sister-in-law.

Edith nodded and took a minute to regain her composure.

"I thought for sure he was going to hit you," she said.

"Me too, but he didn't get the chance," Tom said with a crooked grin. "Now how would that have looked tomorrow at the meeting with businessmen's association? Me with a black eye trying to talk them all round to introducing new services to the village."

"You could have just worn those tight riding pants and no one would ever notice," Edith said with a giggle. She quickly clapped her hand over her mouth when she realized what she had said. The three drinks were adding up and she was finding it a little hard to control her tongue.

"You aren't ever going to let me live them down are you?" Tom said laughing a little at himself.

"It's the stuff of family legend," Edith replied slurring her words slightly as she attempted to put her coat on.

Tom gave her a hand with her coat and scarf, then kept her close with a protective arm as they left the pub incase anyone else got any ideas.

"Remind me never to let you drink two Guinness in a row," he said before he started the motorbike. It wasn't long and Edith was fast asleep as Tom drove home. "_At least she hadn't regarded this as a date,"_ Tom thought to himself as he drove. It had been Edith's idea to wager who paid the tab on their game of darts. When he'd asked her to go out for dinner, he had just been trying to cheer her up. She was definitely going to have a hang over tomorrow.

Edith woke to Tom shaking her shoulder. At first she didn't know where she was until she recognized the cars in the garage at Downton Abbey.

"Come on sleepyhead, we're home," Tom said as he offered her a hand out of the sidecar.

"Thank you for, _hic,_ dinner," Edith said while wobbling slightly. "Your invitation was very kind."

"You're most welcome," Tom replied shaking his head slightly and chuckling at Edith's obvious inebriated state. He had a tight hold of her arm as they headed back towards the house.

"I've never been to dinner with a man as handsome as you," Edith slurred. "Oops, I shouldn't have said that."

Tom just laughed in reply.

They were just passing the hedge of the formal garden when Edith suddenly pulled out of his grip.

"Catch me if you can," she called over her shoulder as she dashed behind a hedge. "My governess could never find me."

"Oh no," Tom groaned. He hoped Edith didn't wake the entire household. The lights were out and it was obvious everyone was already asleep. He headed into the garden to see if he could spot her.

"I can run faster than you can," Edith called.

"Edith be quiet and come back here," Tom called after her.

"No, you have to catch me first," Edith called drunkly from behind a bush.

Tom ran every which way before he finally decided the best tactic was to hide behind a bush and wait for Edith to run by. It wasn't long and Edith shot around the corner of the bush and straight into his arms.

"I've got you," he proclaimed. Edith was breathing hard and smiling as she leaned against him. The moonlight was making her porcelain white face glow as she looked up at him. The thought suddenly crossed Tom's mind that it had been a long time since he'd held a pretty girl in his arms. His mouth descended to hers and he kissed her.

If Edith was surprised by Tom's actions she didn't show it. Rather than push him away she returned his kiss wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing herself closer. She had never been kissed like this. His lips and tongue plundered her mouth while his arms held her to him like a steel vice. The ground was spinning and not just from the beer she had consumed. Just as suddenly as the kiss had begun, it ended.

"I'm sorry, I shouldn't have done that," Tom said pushing her away from him and looking at the ground.

It took Edith a moment to regain her balance.

"I'm glad you did," she blurted out. "I've never experienced anything quite like it. Kissing Sir Anthony Strallen was like kissing a chicken…NO LIPS." She concluded with a giggle.

Tom took her arm.

"Come on, I'll get you back to the house," he said. He was embarrassed by his lack of control. For a brief moment the loneliness and grief had slipped from his consciousness and he had been like any other man out with a pretty girl. "_I hope she is drunk enough she doesn't remember any of this in the morning_," he thought to himself as he got Edith into the house and up the stairs.

When Tom returned to his room, he pulled the photograph of himself and Sybil that was taken at Mary's wedding out of the drawer. The loneliness and shame overwhelmed him for a time as the tears rolled down his cheeks. "I still don't understand why you had to go," he whispered to the image of his dead wife. He had used Edith. In that moment when he kissed her he had lost control. He had poured his pent up desire and yearning of almost a year for something he could never have again into that kiss. There had been lust as well, and it made him ashamed. Perhaps he had kissed her because of their mutual loneliness. He didn't know and he couldn't think about it. It shouldn't have happened.

When he and Edith were on their own the grief and loneliness faded. She was smart although she seldom got credit for it. He never felt he had to guard his words with her and she was good company. She had a daredevil streak that was different than Mary's killer instincts or Sybil's rebelliousness. Edith wasn't the rare beauty his wife had been and she didn't have the striking presence of her older sister. There was something else about her that in another family would have been cherished instead of ignored as it was here at the Abbey. Tom sighed. Whatever it was he couldn't think about it right now. He laid the picture of Sybil back in the drawer. "_If time is supposed to heal all wounds_," he thought, "_I wish I could push the hands of the clock just a little faster._"


	6. Conversations Over Dinner

Chapter Six – Conversations Over Dinner

The next morning Edith didn't put in an appearance at breakfast. Tom had a full day of meetings and wouldn't be back until late afternoon. He was hoping against hope to get a moment alone with her to apologize for his behavior before it became a major family incident. He quickly made his way upstairs to kiss his daughter and take a few minutes with her before he dashed out the door.

"Oh, good Lord," Edith groaned as her maid opened the drapes first thing in the morning. "Close the curtains and let me sleep."

"Aren't you feeling well, milady," her maid inquired.

"Not particularly," Edith mumbled into her pillow. "I'll ring when I want something to eat."

Her maid closed the curtains and left the room. Edith rolled onto her stomach and tried to go back to sleep but her hangover prevented her from doing that. She thought about the events of the previous evening. She had been rather tipsy when they got back to the Abbey. The stress from the events in London combined with the unfamiliar drink had loosened her tongue and removed her inhibitions. She hadn't been so drunk that she didn't remember Tom Branson kissing her. How could she possibly forget it? Is that what was meant in novels when they said the ground moved? Had she really said Sir Anthony kissed like a chicken? It was going to take every ounce of her aristocratic training not to turn red as a beet in Tom's presence and remain impassive.

She thought back to the only physical encounter she had ever had. John Drake had fumbled and groped and squeezed. His kisses had been sloppy and wet. It had been a thoroughly unsatisfying experience with the danger of his wife walking in at any moment and catching them. On top of it all she had allowed herself to get carried away with a married man. Her mother had told Mary that everything could be "_great fun_." From what Edith had experienced so far there hadn't been much fun or at least not until Tom had kissed her.

Edith flopped onto her back with a groan. "What a mess," she blurted out into the empty room. "He is a widower, with a child and my sister's husband," she scolded herself. Her sister had been dead just under a year. It was too soon and she didn't even know if she could think of her brother-in-law in a romantic light. "I'll just pretend it didn't happen," she said out loud. "I'll just have to make sure he doesn't say anything. It's not like he really likes you in that way anyway. No man does." She added the last bit to add salt to the wound and remind herself of the reality of her lot in life. "You are a business woman, with a career. Now stop your mooning over something that happened in the moonlight after too many drinks and get yourself out of bed," Edith ordered herself as she reached for the bell.

"Oh Tom, there you are," Edith greeted her brother-in-law late that afternoon with a smile. "I wanted to thank you for dinner last night. It was a nice break from routine."

"Edith, I was hoping to speak to you alone," Tom said with a worried look on his face. "I wanted to apologize for my behavior. It was uncalled for."

"Whatever do you mean?" Edith lied. "You were a perfect gentleman at dinner. I'm afraid I don't remember a thing after we left the pub. I don't think I'll be drinking Guinness again anytime soon."

"I was a little ruff when we got back. I'm afraid I forgot myself for a few minutes. It won't happen again."

"It couldn't have been easy dealing with a drunken sister-in-law. I'm the one who should apologize," Edith replied with a smile. She was pretty sure he knew she was lying but from his smile and nod he seemed to accept her willingness to sweep things under the carpet.

"I'm just going up to spend some time with Sibby before dinner," Tom said.

"Do you mind if I join you?" Edith asked. "There was a thing or two regarding Fairview Farm I wanted to ask you about."

As they climbed the stairs, the conversation turned to estate business. Tom felt his shoulders relax. He had been pretty sure Edith was lying about not remembering anything, but if that was how she wanted to play it, he was only too happy to comply.

Spring turned to summer and Tom's work accelerated to a frantic pace. There were a great many details to iron out now that they had amalgamated thirty percent of the estate farms and he was kept busy with every manner of issue concerning the running of such a large holding. Edith was no less busy with the new canning business. The new manager was very knowledgeable, but it was Edith's position and business savvy that secured supplier contracts with four of the most exclusive shops in London.

"I think the key to all of this is to produce a high quality product that we can sell to the more exclusive shops," she told her father and the cannery manager during one meeting. "They are willing to pay a premium price for top quality products. So far they have been only too willing to put in orders for harder to find items." She had taken samples of the glace cherries they had produced in mid summer with her. All of the store managers had mentioned how difficult it was to get in products for the Christmas season and had inquired after other items they found hard to find.

"I've created a list of other products we might consider down the line," Edith told them. "It seems currants and walnuts are equally in demand."

"Your daughter is certainly an asset," the manager, George Wilks, told Lord Grantham after Edith had left on yet another errand to do with the business. "She has secured lucrative contracts that will show a profit in the first year, rather than allowing us just to break even."

"It seems she has found her calling," Lord Grantham replied. "I couldn't be prouder of her." He made a mental note to tell Edith so. It seemed every time he spoke with his middle daughter on any personal matter, he always managed to make it sound like he disapproved of her actions. At first he had been resistant to her involvement in Estate affairs. He had been raised to believe women didn't work and certainly no one of their class did. It was a new age, the transition was hard for him, but change he must and with it in his heart he knew he had to change his attitude towards his middle daughter. Mary had finally announced her first pregnancy. It seemed things were looking up.

In late summer Mary and Matthew along with Lord and Lady Grantham and the Dowager Countess headed to London for the season. Matthew would make weekly trips back to the estate to take care of any business or contracts that needed signing but the bulk of the responsibility fell to Tom. Edith declared that she couldn't possibly go to London. She was too occupied with the cannery business and overseeing the next crop of fruit to be harvested.

"Besides," she said. "I have meetings booked with our head gardener to discuss planting new trees and I want to visit the nurseries personally to ensure the correct varieties of saplings are sent to the estate. I have just too much to do."

"But darling," her mother replied, "You need to purchase clothes for winter."

"I have more than enough clothes," Edith stated firmly. "I just have too much to do and establishing this business is important to me and to the estate. Shopping for clothes will just have to wait."

With the rest of the family gone, Edith and Tom decided to forego the custom of dressing for dinner. They were both so tired by the end of the day it was all they could do to eat their dinners and make it upstairs to flop into bed. Conversation over their shared meals tended towards the details of the estate and the various projects they were involved in.

A few days before the family was due back, Edith was nervous over dinner. She finally laid down her utensils and looked directly at Tom.

"Tom, there's something I wanted to talk over with you before the family returns," Edith began.

"Umm, what is it?" Tom asked. He was tired enough today he didn't even look up from his plate.

"Do you remember when we went to dinner at that pub in Malton in the spring?" Edith inquired.

Tom's fork froze part way to his mouth, before he slowly set it back down on his plate and looked at Edith.

"I remember," he said after he had wiped his mouth with his napkin. He had suddenly lost his appetite.

"I had an idea the other day. I'm afraid Papa and Matthew will think it's silly. You seem to be the inspiration behind most of my ideas to do with the estate," Edith said.

"I'm not sure if that is a good thing or a bad thing," Tom replied nervously.

"You inspired me to think of the idea for the cannery," Edith replied, "I suppose that isn't a bad thing."

"No, it's not a bad thing," Tom replied covering her hand on the table with one of his and giving it a squeeze. "You're building part of the legacy for the generations to come."

"That's nice of you to say," Edith replied. He quickly removed his hand when he realized what he had done.

"I was thinking about the store managers in London. Three of the four inquired if there was a specialty brewery in the village or if there was one in the area. I didn't mention it to Papa as I thought he wouldn't approve."

"He has had a change of heart about many things, Edith," Tom replied. He could see how nervous she was discussing the topic of a brewery.

"I was thinking about that pub we went to, and how you said matching beer to a meal was something like choosing the correct wine."

"Did I? I'm surprised you would remember something I said," Tom said flushing a little.

"It set me thinking. We have the Downton Estate Preserves operation started. In a few years it will be more established and we already have ideas and plans for producing more items and have involved some of the tenant farms. Why couldn't we look into a Downton Estate Brewing Company. We have the buildings and the cultivated land for a hop garden. Our rainy climate is perfect for hops. You told me last fall we need to diversify and attract businesses that would provide new types of employment."

"Slow down, Edith. You make me sound like an encyclopedia of rural economic development. It would take someone with the knowledge of brewing and I'm not sure how your father would feel about producing spirits of any kind."

"I'll have little to do once the cannery deliveries are made for the Christmas season," Edith replied. "I know as little about brewing ale as I did about the cannery business when I first started. Would you back me up if I present the idea to Matthew and Papa."

"Of course I will, even if it is only to insist they listen to your opinion," Tom replied with a smile. "I'll admit I know a great deal more about drinking ale than I do about brewing it."

Edith leaned towards Tom and whispered so Alfred would not overhear, "It seems I do as well." Carson and the other footman James had gone to London with the rest of the household.

"If you could call your two trips to a pub any experience at all," Tom whispered back in a teasing tone.

"Then you know exactly how much I know about ale," Edith said with a smile as she straightened up. "Exactly nothing."

-0-

A fall fair was planned for the county just after the family was set to return. The village and farms were in a flurry of activity and people on the streets were buzzing in anticipation. Mr. Wilks had the display arranged for the products they were producing at the cannery well in hand. During the war the county fair had lapsed and this proved to be the largest fair in the area since the war. The day before the fair was to begin the family gathered at Downton for dinner.

"Edith dear, all this business nonsense is well enough," the Dowager Countess exclaimed over dinner when the cannery was being discussed. "Isn't it time you got down to the business of finding yourself a husband?"

"Oh Granny!" Edith exclaimed in exasperation. "Where am I supposed to find one?"

"You won't find a man hiding yourself away in a bunch of dreary business meetings," her grandmother replied.

"Perhaps the right man for me is hiding in the garden behind a bush and I'll find him during a game of Catch Me if You Can," Edith said getting annoyed at her grandmother's constant pestering on the topic. "Or better yet one with a ready made family would fill the ticket perfectly." Edith didn't know why she was suddenly so testy. It wasn't as if her Grandmother hadn't needled her about marriage a hundred times before.

At Edith's words Tom jumped so violently he knocked over his water glass and the other three wine glasses at his place sending their contents all over the table and directly onto his own lap.

"Tom, whatever is the matter?" Cora inquired.

He was so shocked he just sat there with his mouth open for a moment, like a fish that had just landed on the bank gasping for air, completely unable to speak.

"Oh, um, well, not a thing, Lady Grantham," he finally managed to stammer. "Someone just walked over my grave so to speak. If you'll excuse me I had best go and change."

"Well, yes of course, Tom. Do hurry back," Cora replied.

"He's rather jumpy tonight," Robert commented after Tom had left the room.

"Perhaps he is planning an agricultural revolution," the Dowager suggested.

"He's most likely just tired," Edith supplied. "He was working very hard while all of you were gone."

"Perhaps," the Dowager replied narrowing her eyes at her grand daughter. If she didn't miss her guess something Edith had said set Tom Branson off. An idea was beginning to form in Violet's mind. She hadn't put all this energy into molding the man into a socially acceptable member of the family to see it wasted on some common farm girl when he was ready to find a wife again. Not if she had anything to do with it.


	7. Visiting the Fair

Chapter 7 – Visiting the Fair

"Why did I give Nanny the day off," Tom grumbled as he pushed the pram around the fairgrounds with Sibby sitting up clutching the sides with her chubby fingers. Sibby was now fourteen months old and just starting to toddle around the nursery on her little legs. It had seemed like a good idea at the time to take charge of his daughter for the day. "_How hard can it be to push your daughter around in a pram at the fair?_" Tom had thought the day before. Now after the third nappy change in one morning and the red balloon he had purchased and tied to the side of the pram had lost interest for his daughter, he was learning just how fractious a teething toddler could be.

He sighed as he looked towards the stock pens. His main goal in coming to the fair had been to look over the different breeds of sheep and possibly arrange purchase of one or two rams for the estate farm. There was no way he was going to be able to do that as he glanced down at his daughter to see her bottom lip starting to tremble. He spotted an empty seat at a table by a corn on the cob stand and quickly pushed the buggy over to it so he could sit and pick up his daughter.

"What's the matter Sibby?" he crooned as he held her on his lap. He was quickly rewarded by Sibby bonking him on the head with her wooded chew toy. He sighed yet again in exasperation.

"You look anything but the happy father," Edith said as Tom looked up to see her standing by the pram.

"She's a might fractious," he replied. "I brilliantly gave Nanny the day off."

"Do you mind if I join you?" Edith inquired. "I've been looking at the preserves and farm produce all morning taking notes. I'm getting a little fractious myself."

"Please do," Tom said as the baby grabbed his nose and gave it a good twist.

"Perhaps she's hungry," Edith suggested trying to be helpful.

"I tried the bottle a while ago. She threw it back at me," Tom replied looking perplexed.

"Forgive me for saying so, but how often do you feed her lunch?"

"Not often, I'm usually at work and she's eaten supper by the time I get back in the evenings."

"Perhaps she needs a woman's touch," Edith suggested putting her arms out to take Sibby.

Tom handed the baby over then got out the selection of jars and the bottle of milk Mrs. Patmore had sent along for the day. Edith examined the jars then selected a small container of applesauce.

"Let's try something sweet. Everyone likes sweets," she declared. Edith had no more idea of how to feed a toddler than Tom did, but it was worth a try. She got the spoon out dipped it in the open jar then moved it towards the babies mouth while she cuddled Sibby close.

"The train goes in the tunnel," Edith crooned. "Open the tunnel so the train can go in."

Sibby's mouth pooped open for the spoon as she watched her aunt's face.

"That's my girl. Here comes the train again," Edith cooed.

It wasn't long and the applesauce had disappeared. The baby soon fell asleep while sucking on a bottle of milk.

"How did you know to do that," Tom questioned as Edith laid the now sleeping Sibby back into her pram.

"I vaguely remember our nanny doing something like that when Sybil was sick once. It just came out. I'm not really sure how I knew."

"I owe you a debt of gratitude or at least lunch," Tom said. "I haven't been able to get a thing done all day."

"Lunch then," Edith replied. "I'll stay here with the baby while you find us something to eat. I'm afraid none of the rest of the family will be at the fair until it's time to hand out the trophies. Mary wasn't feeling well this morning. She'll most likely miss the whole thing."

Tom nodded and headed off to find them some meat pies and two mugs of tea. It wasn't long and he was back. He was relieved to see Sibby still sleeping.

"You startled me the other day at dinner," Tom mentioned casually when they were almost finished their lunch.

"Did I?" Edith replied. "I don't know why I even said that. Yes I do. Granny made me so annoyed. It's been the same thing all my life, get married, do this, do that, don't do this. I've got something to do and I'm happy for the first time in my life. I don't know why she can't accept that."

"She's just concerned. She doesn't want you to be alone."

"She doesn't want me to drink tea from a mug either and yet here I am doing it," Edith replied.

"Getting married hardly equates to drinking tea from a mug."

"Doesn't it? I tried doing it their way and what did it get me? I'm an object of pity. The Lady spinster who was left at the alter."

"Look at the bright side, you don't have to kiss a man with lips like a chicken," Tom said suddenly starting to laugh.

The blush flew up Edith's cheeks.

"You promised never to mention that," she said. "A gentleman wouldn't."

"I never promised any such thing," Tom replied. "And as I have been reminded often enough I'm no gentleman. Besides you started it at dinner the other night."

"I guess I did," Edith said. They had gotten up and started to walk towards the livestock pens. "Why don't you go and look at livestock. I'll push Sibby around. I was going to go and talk to Mr. Wilks and his wife for a bit."

"I'll try not to be too long," Tom assured her before he left to look at the stock he was interested in.

An hour and a half later Tom found Edith at the display table for the cannery gently pushing the pram back and forth with the still sleeping Sibby in it.

"Are you ready to head back to the house?" Edith inquired.

"Yes, how about you?"

"I've had enough of the fair for the day," Edith said.

Tom took the pram and started pushing it along as they walked back together.

"It's been an odd summer, hasn't it?" Edith said as they walked along. "It's been the busiest summer I can remember yet I feel fulfilled at the same time."

"I've hardly had time to think about anything," Tom replied. "Your father tells me there is going to be a shoot in a few weeks."

"Have you ever shot anything?"

"No, I've never fired a rifle or a shotgun or any firearm for that matter in my life. If I don't take part, I'll look standoffish and ridiculous, if I do I might shoot myself in the foot."

"You'll learn," Edith replied. "Just like you've learned to ride. You are a good rider now. Shooting is about the same. You wear the right clothes and carry the shotgun over your arm like you know what you're doing. Even if you never fire a shot as long as it looks like you're taking part no one will ever know the difference."

"You make it sound like a masquerade."

"Granny told me you once informed her formal attire was the costume of an oppressive class. Do you still feel that way?"

"A bit, but I have to admit wearing the right clothes in the right way does get people to take you seriously. I just usually mess it up."

"When there's a shoot, I wear tweed and walk behind and hate every second of it. No one ever guesses. Maybe it is all a big costume party after all. Are you going to get Sibby a governess when she gets older?"

"I don't think so. I haven't really thought about it much. I do want her to go to school when the time comes."

"I always wanted to go to school, but of course Granny and Papa wouldn't hear of it. It was more important to know how to pour a cup of tea properly than anything else."

"With my parents it was work. I used to sneak off on Saturdays and hide in the public library all day. My brother, Kieran would get a job for a few pennies cleaning someone's yard or shoveling coal. He'd lie and say I was with him. They never wanted to hear a thing about books or schooling beyond the basics at public school."

"Things will be different for our children. Won't they?" Edith said suddenly stopping and looking at her brother-in-law. "At least if I ever have any, which is doubtful."

"Don't say that Edith. It will happen someday, I'm sure of it."

"You're optimistic."

"You have many qualities that would attract the right man."

"Name one."

It was Tom's turn to stop and look at Edith.

"You can talk about business and are always full of ideas for new ones," Tom replied with a serious expression.

"That's hardly a compliment or a quality to attract a man," Edith said with a small laugh.

"You listen when people talk to you. Not the polite nods and all the rest Mary does. She called Mr. Wakefield, Mr. WakeUp the other day when he was visiting your father," Tom shook his head and laughed at the recollection. "You really listen and ask questions. You remember things I've said that I've long forgotten. I think it is a highly attractive quality."

Edith thought over what Tom had said as they started walking again.

"I think I'll bring up the topic of a brewery the day before the shoot," Edith said after a long pause. "Papa will be so distracted he won't notice if you never load your gun or fire a shot."

"You are rather devious, aren't you?" Tom replied shaking his head at Edith's plotting.

"I've had a good teacher. There is a reason Granny always gets her way and it's not because she's always right."

"She does rather form the world to her way of thinking."

"I saw her watching you the other day after dinner. I think she's up to something."

"And what are your plans for avoiding her manipulations?" Tom asked.

"Simple. Keep busy with business, look into new ideas and stay out of her line of fire."

"You actually think that's possible?"

"Probably not," Edith replied with a smile as the started walking again towards the house and switched the topic of conversation back to the business of running the estate.


	8. The Dandy of the Shoot

Chapter 8 – The Dandy of the Shoot

"I am not, absolutely not wearing that," Tom Branson declared pointing to the tweed nickers Mosely had produced for him to wear to the shoot.

"But Mr. Branson, I assure you…" Mosely began.

"No, find something else! There has to be something else in this house I can wear for one day without having to go and buy a new suit. I am not wearing a hat with a giant pompom on top or those sawed off pants and that overly decorated jacket."

Matthew Crawley entered his dressing room to see what all the commotion was about. He entered to find Mosely looking perplexed and Tom standing with his hands on his hips looking determined.

"What's all the commotion about?" Matthew inquired.

"Just look what your valet wants me to wear to the shoot. I'll be the laughing stock. It will be worse than those tight riding cloths. Everyone will forget that I don't know how to shoot all right. They'll be too busy laughing at me," Tom's voice was starting to rise.

"They are rather dreadful," Matthew sympathized. "At least the hat is."

"Why can't I wear a regular suit?"

"That won't work either. You're just going to have to bite the bullet so to speak and go shopping for a set of hunting tweeds," Matthew stated calmly.

"Alright I will," Tom replied stomping out of the room.

"I'm sorry Sir. I didn't mean to offend Mr. Branson."

"It's alright Mosely. Mr. Branson is just a bit testy about being stared at. He's rather nervous about the shoot."

"If all the lasses stared at me the way they stare at him, I'd be quite happy if you don't mind me saying so Sir."

Matthew laughed a little.

"I don't think he welcomes the attention. He's rather a serious fellow when you get to know him," Matthew replied.

Tom stomped out of the house and headed to the garage in a foul mood.

"Here we go again," he muttered to himself. "I'm going to wear the wrong thing, or say the wrong thing or hold my gun the wrong way and everyone will laugh, yet again."

Edith had gone up to London to ensure the last shipment got to one of the stores in good order and his mother-in-law was out paying calls. He couldn't even turn to either of them for advice. There was nothing for it but he would have to go to the clothing store himself and just pray he got it right. Every time he got fed up with all of the hoity-toity nonsense, he just had to look at his daughter and he knew what it was all for. She would grow up never knowing hunger or feeling the cold when there wasn't enough coal to heat the house. She would have a pony to ride, aunts and a grandma to cluck over her, clothes and shoes on her feet and most important of all, her father by her side for as long as she needed him. With a sigh, he got out his motorbike, checked the petrol to make sure he had enough to get there and back and set off.

The easiest choice was to go to the shop he had gone to when they picked out his riding clothes and hope the man understood what he needed. Edith had rejected two sets of riding attire before they settled on the one he now had. Tom hadn't seen the difference but Edith had a sharp eye about these things and good taste he had to admit.

"May I help you Sir," the man behind the counter asked. He recognized Tom from the last time he was in. It wasn't everyday a young man came in and purchased one of the most expensive riding outfits in the store.

"I need a set of tweeds for a shoot," Tom replied. "The plainer the better. No pompoms, no frilly bits, and absolutely no nickers."

"Most men prefer nickers, Sir. It's easier with the boots, but you can wear leg bindings if you prefer."

"Boots? For a shot?" Tom inquired wrinkling his brow. This sounded more complicated by the second.

"Most hunts are conducted in the fall and winter Sir, when the ground is wet. Boots are usually preferred."

"I see," Tom said. "Well bring me three sets of tweeds in my size. I need something sooner than later. Make it head to toe, hat, shirt tie and whatever else I'll need." Tom added.

"Very well, Sir."

A few minutes later the man had three suits for Tom to look at. One Tom rejected immediately as it was covered with buttoned down plackets and fancy stitching. The others were plain and looked more like something he could wear around the estate on a regular basis. It was just… well both of the suits he preferred had those damn nickers.

After trying on both suits, Tom finally settled on the one he thought suited him best.

"You're sure I won't look out of place at a shoot in this?" he asked the man for the tenth time after coming in the shop.

"No, I'm quite sure, Sir. I do recommend you purchase a pair of the correct boots as well though."

"I can't wear my riding boots?"

"No Sir, you'll ruin them at a shoot."

"Oh very well," Tom said at last. "I'll take this one. Only one thing, does it wrinkle easily? My wife hated my wrinkled suits."

"No Sir, it is a very fine tweed. It's quite durable. Was that your Mrs. with you the last time you were here Sir? I must say she has very good taste."

"No, that was my sister-in-law," Tom replied. "My wife has been gone now for a year and a half."

He paused when he made the statement. His daughter was well past her first birthday and on her way to her second. Over the summer he had been so busy he had forgot to count the days the way he had at first. He still missed Sybil, but it didn't hurt so much anymore. His memories of her were pleasant, not riddled with pain. Perhaps time was the great cure all, time and a great deal of work.

"Hopefully, this will meet with my sister-in-law's approval," Tom said quickly as a way of getting himself back to the matter at hand.

Tom paid for the suit then stuffed his parcel into the sidecar and headed to the boot makers to order yet another pair of boots. "_Honestly,"_ he thought, "_any funds I'm saving the estate are all being spent every time I buy another pair of boots."_

"I need a pair of boots for a shoot to match a set of hunting tweeds," Tom told the boot maker.

"Very good, Sir," the man said without batting an eyelash. "I'll just take your measurements."

The man traced Tom's feet and produced a measuring tape to measure his legs and the distance around the ball of each foot.

"Might I interest you in a pair of boots I already have on hand, Sir? I had an order for a pair last year and the person never returned to collect them. Your measurements are quite close."

"I don't know," Tom replied ruefully. He knew so little about all these fancy clothes he was incredibly nervous about messing things up.

"Perhaps you would like to try them on, Sir? I could offer them to you at a considerable discount."

"Fine then, let's have a look," Tom finally agreed.

The man went off into a back room and quickly returned with a large box. Tom had to admit they did look like a very expensive pair of leather boots and they fit almost as well as his riding boots.

"They are brand new, Sir, never worn and I would offer the same guarantee as with a custom pair," the man coaxed.

"They do seem a bit looser than my riding boots," Tom commented while looking at his feet in the expensive boots in the floor mirror.

"These boots are worn with heavy woolen socks. Did you purchase a pair with your tweeds Sir?"

"What? Oh yes," Tom replied. His mind had wandered to the dread of the actual day of the shoot and all the falderal he knew was coming. "How much are they."

The man named a price that made Tom gulp.

"I thought you said you would discount them?" Tom replied.

"Yes Sir, that is half the original price."

"Hmm," Tom said bidding his time. The man looked nervous. Perhaps he could get an even better price and save himself a few pounds. He knew very well no one at the house would even bat an eyelash at the price. Nevertheless he still couldn't stand to waste money on frivolous nonsense after all the years of doing without. "I'll take them if you reduce the price another ten percent."

The cobbler had been sweating a bit while Tom made his decision. They were one of the most expensive pairs of boots he had ever made. They were almost twice the cost of a regular pair. The original order had come from a man who was a complete dandy. When the man's family fortune had failed he never returned to collect the boots or pay the bill for that matter.

"Very well, Sir. I'll reduce them another ten percent," the cobbler replied. The beads of perspiration were standing out on his forehead.

"I'll take them," Tom said at last. He just hoped he had made the correct decision. "_Who knew making something of yourself would include a trip to the boot makers every time you turned around,"_ he thought.

-0-

"How did you make out with your shopping, Tom?" Matthew inquired that evening at dinner.

"Pretty well, I guess," Tom replied. "I chose something rather plain. They looked the most practical to me."

"What's this?" Robert inquired.

"I went shopping for hunting tweeds," Tom replied. "I didn't want to embarrass myself or the house again after the disaster with the riding clothes. I got something plain I can wear around the estate."

"I suppose you know how to shoot?" Robert asked.

"The fact is I don't," Tom answered. "I thought if I looked the part no one would notice, if I never fire a shot."

"Unfortunately, you've left things a bit late," Matthew said. "I don't have time between now and the shoot to teach you anything."

"It's all right," Tom said. "Since I lost this afternoon to shopping, I have work to catch up on right through to the day. I'll make a good show of it. I just won't actually shoot anything."

"Good grief," Robert exclaimed rolling his eyes. "Just don't embarrass me."

"I'll try not to," Tom said looking a bit defeated.

"You'll do just fine," Cora said patting his arm.

"Just walk around with the gun over your arm like you know what you're doing," Mary said. "Wave it around at the birds and fire a few shots in the air. No one will ever guess."

"I hope so," Tom replied with a small sigh.

"Shooting isn't that hard," Robert said getting a bit annoyed at the idea of play-acting at hunting. "Hold the gun tight to your shoulder, make sure the barrel is pointed in the air when you pull the trigger and lead the shot on the bird's flight. Just don't shoot anyone."

"I'll keep that in mind," Tom said as he went back to his dinner.

A few days later guests began arriving for the shoot and the house was a hive of activity. Tom had been so busy with the estate he had only made it back to the house for dinner one night. There hadn't been time to show anyone his new tweeds and get a second opinion. Come what may, they would just have to do. On the morning of the shoot he emerged from his room and gathered with the others to head out.

"He's become quite the dandy," Robert commented to his wife with a nod in Tom's direction.

"Oh Robert, leave him alone. He's trying hard to please, although I must admit the clothes do look a trifle expensive."

"At least he got the clothing right for once," Robert grumped before he turned to chat with one of the guests.

Tom was so nervous he was almost sick. He had absolutely no idea what he was doing or which way to go during the shoot. Edith had returned last night but hadn't come down yet. Mary wasn't accompanying the party due to her pregnancy. He recognized a few of the people from his dealings around the estate and was kept busy circulating with the guests before they all piled into cars and headed out to the location.

Tom had been presented with a shotgun and handed a pocket full of shells, when Edith finally showed up at his side. He had never been so glad to see anyone in his life.

"Thank God you're here," he said to her quietly. "I don't know how I'm going to pull this off."

"It shouldn't be too hard," she replied. "You've done well so far. Did Mosely set you up with the tweeds?"

"No. He tried to dress me up in some frilly version of a country squire. I had to go shopping on my own."

"You've done quite well. You're the best dressed man here," Edith commented.

"I wanted something plain," Tom replied feeling uncomfortable. He just knew he was going to mess something up.

"Don't worry about it. Just hold the gun over your arm the way the others are. I'll walk with you on the first couple of drives. You'll get the hang of it all in no time."

"And if I don't actually shoot a bird?"

"You can give it a try if you feel comfortable with it all," Edith replied confidently.

"How was the trip to London?" Tom inquired. Their conversation turned to the business Edith had been on and continued until they reached the first marker. They were busy talking and no one thought it in the least strange Tom never made a move towards shooting a bird on the first drive.

On the second drive they hung back a bit as though they couldn't find Tom's marker.

"Just shuffle your feet around and look at the ground. If we can waste enough time you won't have to do anything."

"All this play acting seems a bit foolish, doesn't it?"

"Do you actually want to try shooting a pheasant on the next drive?" Edith asked.

"It doesn't look too difficult," Tom replied.

"Just remember to keep the loaded gun pointed at the sky. If you make some noise no one will be the wiser you aren't actually aiming at anything."

"What if I actually shoot a bird?"

"Then so much the better," Edith replied with a shrug.

On the third drive, which was the last before the break, Tom carefully pushed two shells into the chambers and closed the shotgun being careful to keep it pointed towards the sky as Edith had said. The last thing he needed was to wound someone and be accused of doing it on purpose as a revolutionary act. He raised the gun to his shoulder when suddenly a large pheasant flew out of the bush in front of him. He tracked the bird and unwittingly pulled both triggers.

The shotgun went off with a mighty roar in his ear and a recoil that felt as though he had been kicked by a horse. For all his concentrating on keeping the barrel pointed to the sky he had forgotten to pull it in tight to his shoulder. As the kick came back it hit him in the shoulder then rebounded and hit him squarely in the jaw, knocking him senseless.

Edith let out a screech as Tom fell over backwards and knocked her down as well. The both lay on the ground not moving. No one had time to react before a large pheasant fell out of the sky and landed squarely on Tom's chest in a pile of bloody feathers. The whistles blew and everyone came running to see what had happened.

Tom Branson slowly opened his eyes to find himself lying on his back on the ground surrounded by people with Isis happily grabbing a dead pheasant off his chest. Matthew and Lord Grantham were both peering down at him with worried expressions.

"Did I hit anything?" Tom asked stupidly as his eyes slowly adjusted.

"Other than yourself and knocking Edith down, I'd say a rather large pheasant," Lord Grantham replied extending a hand to help Edith back to her feet.

"I say, good shot," Matthew exclaimed. "You've bagged the largest bird of the day."

"The recoil was a little more than I expected," Tom said blushing a little and rubbing his jaw where he had been hit.

Everyone had a good chuckle over the incident when they saw Tom and Edith were going to be all right. Lord Grantham called the lunch break. The crowd headed towards the lodge where the luncheon was to be served laughing and discussing the Estate Agent who had just knocked himself silly with a shotgun.

"I'm afraid yet another family legend has just been made," Tom said to Edith and Matthew with a crooked grin as he wobbled towards the lodge with one on either side holding onto one arm for support.

"I think county legend maybe more in keeping this time," Edith replied looking worried.

"Oh, don't fret," Tom replied. "I'm getting used to it."

"You do seem to make a splash wherever you go," Matthew said suddenly grinning.

"I could with a few less splashes," Tom said as the reached the lodge and rejoined the group.


	9. Choices

Chapter 9 – Choices

Christmas at the Abbey wasn't much different than it had been every other year, Edith thought as the family gathered in the great hall to open presents. The only exception was Tom and her mother doting on baby Sibby who was now a toddler and busier playing with the bright wrapping paper than any of the toys she had received. Her father, Matthew and Cousin Isobel were occupied circling Mary in excitement who was now six months along as if she were the blessed virgin herself.

Edith sighed a little as she took a seat next to her grandmother and Aunt Rosamund.

"Christmas is a happy event that always serves to remind me of the march of time," Violet commented.

"Mother, you'll cast a pall over the celebrations," Rosamund replied.

"Think of it. It seems just yesterday we were celebrating Christmas when Tom and Sybil were living in Ireland and now here we are. Sibby is almost two years old and everything has changed," Violet pressed.

"Any plans for the New Year?" Rosamund quickly inquired of her niece as a way of tactfully changing the subject.

"No, not really," Edith replied. "More of the same I think as last year. Papa has consented to a small brewery. He is happy as long as the estate products are higher quality and sold in an exclusive market."

"We wouldn't want to be providing swill to the rabble," Violet injected. "That would never do."

"Oh Granny, it's all business," Edith replied. "I suppose I'll be occupied with business all year, the same as last."

"And what are your plans for the New Year's Day shoot?" Rosamund inquired. "I heard you and Branson made quite a stir at the last one."

"That was an accident," Edith replied coloring slightly. "Papa has taken Tom shooting since. I doubt it will happen again."

"The talk around the county still hasn't died down about the two of you from the last one. Lying sprawled on the ground with a man even if he is a member of the family is highly unsuitable," her grandmother chided.

"I've already told you that was an accident," Edith replied. "It was just lucky Tom wasn't seriously injured."

"Be that as it may, gossip about the family is never welcome," Violet stated with an imperious tone that signaled the end of the conversation.

A few days after Christmas Edith received a summons to join her grandmother for tea at the Dower House. She arrived to find her Grandmother and Aunt Rosamund waiting for her. Once the tea was served and the butler had left the room her aunt and grandmother were ready to get down to business.

"Edith, we've asked you to join us today because we wanted to discuss this Branson business," her grandmother informed her cutting to the chase.

"Granny, there is no "_Branson business_" to discuss," Edith replied. "We are friends and business associates that's all."

"Oh really," Lady Rosamund said. "That's not what is being said in the gossip circles. You've been seen together more than once out in public walking arm in arm and we won't mention again what's being said since the shoot."

"Honestly, I don't know why people can't mind their own business," Edith said getting angry. "There is nothing to talk about. We are out in public because we are friends and business associates. I do exactly the same thing with Matthew and Mr. Wilks on occasion."

"Be that as it may, they are both married men. Tom Branson is not. We are members of a privileged class. There is always something to talk about," her grandmother informed her.

"Quite so," Rosamund agreed.

"I don't want to listen to this," Edith said feeling upset and chastised when she hadn't done anything wrong.

"As I see it you have two choices," her grandmother continued not willing to let things lie. "You can either marry the man or make yourself scarce."

"You can't be serious!" Edith exclaimed.

Her grandmother raised a hand to still her granddaughter's protest.

"Now hear me out, Edith. You haven't been looking for a husband because you've already found one or at least partially. You select his clothes, you accompany him to events, you see to his daughter's welfare and in many ways you do the small things that are part of a wife's duty."

"I can't listen to this," Edith exclaimed starting to rise to leave.

"You can and you will," Rosamund informed her with a slight incline of her head.

Edith looked from her aunt to her grandmother in dismay before she plopped herself back on her chair in defeat.

"Should you decide to marry the man he would not be a bad choice," her grandmother continued. "He's given up the revolutionary nonsense at least for now and he has proven himself to be an exemplary father putting aside his own wishes and desires to provide for his daughter. He is obviously making an effort to fit in and with a little more work the rough edges will be thoroughly unnoticeable."

Edith's hands had begun to shake. She was keeping her eyes firmly fixed on her cup of tea and empty plate. She liked Tom, even admired the way he had made something of himself, but she had no idea anyone had connected them in a romantic way. The only time anything had ever happened was when they had both had too much to drink. Since then they teased each other often but that was part of their friendship, wasn't it?

"Your second choice," her grandmother continued, "is to make yourself absent from the situation for a time. If you don't have any feelings for the man or if your relationship is only a friendship as you claim, distance yourself. Go abroad. Visit that woman in New York if you desire, but do something that will stop the tongues from wagging. You are entirely too involved in business. We have employees who can take care of things."

"You're suggesting I give up my career and my friendship with Tom?" Edith exclaimed indignantly.

"No, not at all," her grandmother replied. "I'm only suggesting you take a break. A long one and let the gossip die down."

"I think it might be best," Rosamund chimed in happily.

"I'll think about it," Edith said at long last.

"That is all we can ask," her grandmother replied with a look that said she had won.

Tom was finally starting to feel like he was accepted at least a little at the house. He had taken Sibby with him to mass on Christmas Eve and no one had made any disparaging comments. He counted Matthew and Edith as friends and even had a fairly decent relationship with the rest of his in-laws. Other than that he had made a few friends at church and among his business associates. There were still those that looked down their nose at him and always would, but all in all things were starting to look up.

He had noticed Edith acting strangely shortly after Christmas day. She barely spoke at family dinners and left the drawing room as quickly as she could. He had only glimpsed her once or twice during the New Year's Day shoot chatting with one guest or another but she had barely spoken to him. He couldn't blame her after the spectacle he had made of the pair of them at the last one. He had to admit his feelings were a little hurt. He thought they were friends but whatever was going on with her would be revealed soon enough.

"Listen everyone, I have an announcement," Edith said suddenly one evening during dinner. "I've decided to go to visit Grandmamma in New York for a few months. I have the tickets booked. I'll be leaving the day after tomorrow."

"This is rather sudden isn't it?" her mother replied.

"I've been thinking about it for a while," Edith lied. "I've already written and Grandmamma has sent a cable to say she is expecting me."

"What about your work?" Matthew inquired. "I thought you were planning some new products and getting the brewery underway."

"Mr. Murray will handle the hiring of the new brew master. I'm not really needed here. Mr. Wilks knows the operation well enough. We've had all sorts of orders and inquiries for next season. Anything they need or questions they have Tom can take care of it. It's what he was hired for," Edith stated peevishly glancing directly at Tom.

"I see," Tom said. Edith's comment had stung. For all he was trying to fit in and be part of the family, he was still the chauffeur, part of the hired help. "Thank you for making that quite clear." He folded his napkin and laid it on the table. "If you'll excuse me Lady Grantham, I have some business to attend to." He said rising from the table and quickly leaving the room.

"Edith, that was uncalled for," her mother admonished her.

"I didn't say it to hurt anyone's feelings," Edith said. "It's the truth though. I'm really not needed here. There is nothing that someone else can't take care of in my absence or any situation someone else can't deal with."

"Is there some reason we're not aware of that you're taking this trip?" her father questioned. Something wasn't right. One glance at his mother told him volumes. She looked exactly like the cat that had swallowed the canary. If he didn't miss his guess his mother had something to do with his daughter's sudden departure.

"No, I just think it's time to get away for a bit. Last year was a great deal of work getting the cannery business off the ground. I think I need a vacation," Edith replied.

"Hmm," Robert muttered as he turned back to his meal. There was no way anything else would be discussed in front of the servants.

"Branson seemed rather upset by Edith's announcement," Robert commented to Cora that night as he was getting into bed.

"She practically called him the chauffeur, Robert. It must have hurt his feelings terribly. He's been working so hard and putting in every effort to fit in around here. I thought they were friends."

"Obviously not," Robert sighed. "I think my mother has something to do with this."

"Nothing would surprise me about your mother," Cora replied. "We won't get anywhere turning it over tonight. I'll talk to Edith in the morning."

"Let me know what you find out," Robert said as he clicked out the lights.


	10. Repercussions

Chapter 10 – Repercussions

"_All this while you've been seducing my daughter behind my back…just a grubby little chauffeur man…it's what he was hired for."_ All the insults Tom had received in that house over the years came back to haunt him and played over and over in his mind as he walked away. He made his way up the stairs to the nursery to find Nanny just about to put Sibby to bed.

"You go Nanny, I'll take care of her," he said trying not to let the emotion choke his voice.

He put his daughter into bed then pulled out one of her favorite books and cuddled her close while he read to her. A single tear escaped his eye and rolled down his cheek as he read. He didn't know why it all hurt so much. What did he expect from somebody who was born to be an aristocrat, the ruling class? Equality, the right to have your voice heard, giving a damn about the people around you, they were all foreign concepts in this world. He should have known better.

"Dada sad?" Sibby asked reaching up her chubby fingers and poking him in the cheek where the tear had trickled down as he leaned over her and adjusted the covers.

"No Dada is happy he's here with you," Tom answered kissing her on the forehead before turned out the light.

The next morning he was up and out of the house at the crack of dawn. "_He was the hired help all right. Make no mistake about it," _he thought to himself. He had work to get to from dawn through until evening. Thank God, he had a dinner meeting that evening that would keep him away from the house. With any luck he wouldn't have to see his sister-in-law before she left_. _He paused for a minute as he saddled his mare before he headed out into the grey light. "_Who are you trying to kid? You're hurt and you're angry." _He was still every bit as hot headed as he'd always been, he was just getting better at hiding it.

It wasn't until the following morning a few hours before Edith was scheduled to leave that he had to deal with her face to face. Tom had ridden over to one of the farms to discuss the upcoming lambing season with the man who tended the flock in that section when Edith arrived driving one of the cars. As she approached the shepherd tipped his hat to her and tactfully made his retreat.

"I'm surprised to see you out so late before your departure," Tom said in way of greeting. His face was serious and his blue eyes were snapping with pain and anger. Pain she had put there.

"I wanted to apologize for my comment the other night at dinner and explain why I'm leaving," Edith replied.

"There's no need to apologize and you certainly don't owe me any explanations," Tom replied. He was still angry and hurt. At the moment he wasn't really interested in anything Edith had to say.

"I do," Edith said. "I didn't mean to imply that you were part of the hired help. I meant that you are perfectly capable of making business decisions in my absence. It came out badly and I apologize."

"You were correct in your statement, Edith. I was hired to do a job. If I've done anything to offend you or behaved in any way inappropriately I apologize. Now, if you'll excuse me I have work to attend to. You won't want to miss your train," Tom said. He mounted quickly and cantered off before Edith had a chance to reply.

"Damn," Edith swore in a most unladylike way under her breath. She got back in the car and headed back to the Abbey to collect her maid and luggage before she in fact missed her train.

-0-

Mary's baby was due in another six weeks. Most evenings the Dowager Countess and Isobel Crawley were in attendance at dinner in anticipation of the big day. It had been two days since Edith's departure before Robert had a chance to corner his mother in the drawing room. He sent the servants downstairs for the evening before he challenged her in front of the rest of the family.

"Mama, I'd like an explanation as to why Edith felt the need to run off to America," Robert said. He had asked the rest of the family to remain.

"What did Edith say?" the Dowager inquired making her most innocent face and raising her eyebrows.

"She wouldn't tell us a thing," Robert replied. "I'm quite sure you had something to do with it."

"I simply outlined her choices. She chose to take an extended trip. There's nothing untoward in that," Violet answered sweetly.

"And what choices were those?" Cora inquired.

"It was brought to my attention there has been considerable gossip in London and in the county linking Branson…Tom with Edith in a romantic way. I simply told her she could either marry him or make herself absent until the gossip died down," Violet declared.

"You did what!" Robert bellowed.

Tom's eyes flew open wide in shock at the Dowager's statement. "Why would anyone link Edith with me?" Tom interjected quickly. "Lady Grantham, I can assure you there is no truth in the rumors. If I had known I would have moved out immediately,"

"And what good would that have done?" Violet questioned. "It would have just served to fuel the flames and made my granddaughter the object of speculation and ridicule for shattered hopes whether there was truth in the rumors or not."

"Mama, even you can't tell people who to marry or where to go without consulting the other parties involved," Robert declared.

"It's a moot point," Violet declared straightening her back and raising her chin imperiously. "Edith has chosen to make herself absent for the next six months or so. When she returns the rumors will have died down and things will be back to normal. Hopefully she will find some rich American while she is over there and everything will settle itself nicely."

"You never cease to amaze," Isobel Crawley commented to the Dowager.

"I take that as a compliment," she replied.

"Well, you shouldn't," Robert turned back to his mother after taking a moment to think over the news. "It would have been more prudent to bring this to everyone's attention and let us make a decision together. Edith was obviously upset before she left. Your meddling has possibly damaged Edith's position in this family and the running of this estate forever."

Tom had moved to the fireplace and was watching the flames. He had been too angry to listen to Edith's explanation before she left. His pride and anger had won out, that and his trampled feelings. His head was reeling from everything he had heard. Where would the Dowager get the idea of him marrying Edith? The flames of the fire seemed to dance up and laugh at him as he stood there. "_You're not one of them. You're not one of them, you foolish Irish git,_" they seemed to taunt at him as they consumed the logs.

"Where would you get the idea that Edith and I would ever get married," Tom demanded suddenly turning back to the room from the fire.

"Why not?" Lady Violet replied. Everyone turned to look at her open mouthed. "It's obvious Edith has some affection for you. You seem to get along quite well. You're an attractive young man who is respectable enough now and fitting in quite nicely on the estate. You've proven yourself to be a devoted father. It's more than many people base a marriage on."

Tom didn't know what to say. His jaw dropped open and he turned back to the fire before he or anyone else could say a thing. It was true he and Edith were close. Close friends he had thought until this last few weeks when she had pushed him away. His body had reacted to her physically more than once but he had pushed those reactions out of his mind and told himself over and over they were more from lack of female companionship in his life than anything else. He was a single father, living on an estate in a position of authority. He couldn't take up with a local woman to serve his baser needs without becoming the center of scandal and a visit to a prostitute was equally out of the question. The room was spinning and he couldn't think straight. He wasn't even listening to the conversation going on around him. At long last he pushed himself away from the mantle, made his excuses and went upstairs to bed.

He lay staring up in the dark room. Random thoughts kept swirling around in his head. He was fond of Edith certainly, but not fond enough to marry her. They talked about business and farming and accompanied each other to meetings. He had acted as her escort from time to time at the required family functions as they were both single and she was easy to talk to. The few times they had gone to a pub were more about blowing off some steam than anything else. Tom rolled over onto his stomach and pulled his pillow over his head. She wouldn't be back for at least six months. The least he could do was write her a letter saying he understood her reasons for leaving and wishing her well in New York. He determined to write first thing in the morning. He didn't have to think about any of this at the moment. There was always work to be seen to. The best thing about work was it blotted everything about his personal life out of his mind.

A week later after many attempts at a letter that had landed in the grate Tom finally had a letter written that he though suited the situation. He placed it in the tray in the hall and silently crossed his fingers that it was sufficient to patch things up with his sister-in-law and remove the awkwardness that was sure to be present when she returned.

Two weeks had gone by in New York when a letter arrived from Downton in a male hand Edith didn't immediately recognize. As she unfolded the note her eyebrows raised in surprise at the words on the page.

_Dear Edith:_

_You've probably heard by now your grandmother told us all the real reason for your hasty departure a few days after you left. I regret that I did not allow you to explain the morning of your departure. I feel I over reacted to the situation. I also regret that my presence made you the center of gossip. I hope you can believe that it was not intentional on my part. _

_Don't worry about your involvement in the estate business. Your position will be here waiting for you when you choose to return and if you still wish to be involved. The new brew master will be arriving shortly and Mr. Wilks has the cannery business well in hand. _

_It is my sincere hope that we may renew our friendship when you return. Please believe me when I say your presence is missed. I sincerely hope you enjoy yourself in New York._

_Tom Branson _

Edith folded Tom's letter and placed it in her drawer. It did sound as though he had forgiven her for her remarks before she left and understood the predicament she had found herself in. After two weeks of paying calls and going shopping she was already starting to get bored. It was time to talk things over with her American grandmother. She was much more progressive about things than Granny ever would be. _"Perhaps I could arrange a tour of one or two canneries or large farms in upstate New York,"_ Edith thought. _"There must be all kinds of products produced around here. After all Americans are known for their inventiveness and it will give me something to discuss when I write back." _She headed out of her room to find her Grandmother with a bounce in her step and a smile on her face for the first time since she had arrived.


	11. A Family Visit

Chapter 11- A Family Visit

It was late summer and the Crawley family was headed to London for the season. Edith had written that she would be home to coincide with the family return from London. Tom and Cora discussed the situation and to prevent the rumors from starting up all over again, Tom decided to move to one of other houses that belonged to the estate. The Estate Agent's house was rented and the current tenants had another two years on the lease.

Things had settled down in Ireland, but Tom was still not able to return. He was making a good living now and sent for his mother to come over for an extended visit to help him set up house and take care of Sibby. Mary had taken the regular Nanny with her and Tom had hired a local girl to care for Sibby until his living arrangements were sorted out. Before the family left the house, it had been arranged with Mrs. Hughes that Tom would take his meals downstairs to allow more of the staff to have time off.

"It's time to put the awkwardness aside, Mrs. Hughes," Tom had told her. "I work for the estate the same as the rest of the staff. I am a family member but I'm also an employee."

"Very well, Mr. Branson, if that is your wish," Mrs. Hughes had replied. She didn't think it was right for Tom to be eating downstairs, but then the young man had his own ideas about most things.

Tom's mother arrived and immediately began cooing over Sibby and making plans for the move to Tom's new house. A huge pile of furniture was dug out of the attics, cleaned, repaired and loaded onto a lorry. Tom was so occupied with the estate he was quite happy to leave all the details up to his mother.

Kieran, Tom's brother arrived to visit with their mother for a few days and was quite happy to be eating downstairs instead of the formal dining room where he had been entertained on his first visit.

"I'm glad to see you've come to your senses and are taking your meals down here," Keiran proclaimed loudly in front of the staff his first evening.

"We're eating down here to allow more of the staff to have the time off they deserve," Tom informed him tight lipped. "We'll be over to the new place next week before the family returns."

"Mr. La-de-da, I'm surprised you aren't wearing your fancy clothes and dressed for dinner," Kieran baited Tom. He knew he had hit on a sensitive point with Tom and couldn't help needling him the same way as when they were children.

"Kieran, stop pestering your brother," Mrs. Branson demanded. "And Tom you never mind your fancy airs or I'll rap both of you on the knuckles."

Her proclamation was greeted by a round of giggles from the junior maids and Tom rolling his eyes in exasperation. _"At least we can walk down to the pub after dinner and no one will mind,"_ Tom thought.

"I'd like to know why neither of you are married," Tom's mother continued oblivious to the rules of not discussing your personal life in front of the staff. "No one wants a crusty confirmed old bachelor with grease under his nails Kieran. And you Tom, it's been two years. Neither of you are getting any younger. It's time to think about these things. I can't stay here indefinitely to keep house for you."

"Ma, not now," Tom hissed turning bright red.

Kieran had started to laugh at his brother's discomfort.

"Maybe one of these lasses'll have me," he said inclining his head at the row of maids down the table. "How about it girls any takers?"

"Kieran! Stop it!" Tom growled tight-lipped at the chorus of giggles that came from down the table.

"What's the matter, Tom? You got another one of those toff girls lined up? Maybe one for your brother?" his brother questioned with a loud gruff laugh.

"That's it," Tom said in exasperation suddenly standing up. "I'm going to the pub. Are either of you two coming?"

"Now you're talking," Kieran proclaimed jubilantly jumping to his feet and making for the door.

"Not before the two of you clear your spots," their mother informed them.

"Yes, Ma," the two brothers replied in chorus.

"And the pair of you had better not come back drunk to the gills or I'll box your ears."

"Yes, Ma," came the second chorus.

Once the men had left the room, Mrs. Branson looked at Mrs. Hughes.

"You'd think I'd raised those two in a barn with all the manners they display," Mrs. Branson stated before she headed out the door of the servants' hall and up the stairs to see to her granddaughter.

As soon as Tom's mother was well out of earshot the entire room broke out in laughter. Once Mrs. Hughes had recovered from her first round of giggles and wiped the tears from her eyes, she opened her mouth to say something dignified to the rest of the staff but it was no use as she collapsed in yet another fit of laughter.

Tom had arranged to take his brother fishing the next day. Fishing was one of the few things Tom hadn't messed up in his life as the estate agent. He didn't totally see the point of the elaborate casts of fly fishing but casting your line into a stream and letting it float was easy enough. Both brothers were slightly hung over from the pub the evening before and were perfectly happy to sit by the side of the stream munching on sandwiches from a picnic hamper and drinking cider.

"So you thought about getting married again?" Kieran asked Tom after a bit.

"Some. I don't know if I could ever go through another woman having a child of mine," Tom replied. He had taken Sibby and gone to visit Kieran for a few days when Mary was due. There was no way he could face another woman giving birth in that house. "What about you?"

"Me?" Kieran exclaimed. "What would I do with a wife? She would have to like cars, be a good cook and not mind when I drank ale. Where would I find one like that?"

"I don't know. It might not hurt if you looked around a bit and got Ma off my back," Tom replied. "You sure won't find one hiding under a table in a pub."

"Such sage dating advice from my younger brother," Kieran replied. "What's the real reason you're moving out of that fancy house?"

"Who says there has to be a reason?" Tom replied evasively.

"You never do anything without a reason and you're always serious. There's a reason or you've suddenly changed the color of your feathers."

"There was some gossip last year about me and one of the daughters. It's better if I'm not there when she gets back," Tom replied at long last.

"The blonde one? She's a piece of all right. You think she likes cars and drinking beer?"

"You just hold your tongue."

"What's the matter, were you doing her in the stable?" Kieran exclaimed with a loud coarse laugh.

"Why you dirty minded …" Tom didn't get the rest out before he his fist connected with Kieran's eye.

Kieran threw his fishing rod to the side and launched himself into the fight. Tom was in better shape and landed more punches easily dodging Kieran's more awkward swings although a few managed to get through and make their mark. The two of them were winded quickly and wobbling unsteadily on their feet by the time Kieran finally spoke.

"What are we fighting about anyway?"

"You insulted my sister-in-law."

"I did no such thing. I only asked if you were sleeping with her."

With that Tom landed a blow squarely on his brother's jaw knocking him out cold. Kieran came to a few minutes later when Tom poured a bottle full of stream water on his face.

"Touchy, touchy," Kieran scolded his brother as he sat up. The two of them punching each others lights out was nothing new.

"That shouldn't have happened," Tom said helping his brother to his feet. "If anyone had seen us, I'd be the laughing stock of the county, yet again."

"What's really going on?" Kieran asked once he had taken his seat and picked up his fishing rod, rubbing his jaw and checking his teeth.

Tom screwed up his eyes and thought for a moment before he blurted out the entire story to his brother. He didn't leave out any of the details of his embarrassment at wearing the wrong clothes or the fiasco at the shoot.

"The worst of it is," Tom continued. "Everywhere I go on business there is someone introducing me to their daughter as though they are serving them up on a platter. Then even old lady Grantham informs me I should be marrying her granddaughter. She's my wife's sister for God sake."

"Your former wife," Kieran corrected. "I believe it was until death do you part and that's been and gone. You could do worse. A lot worse."

"But I don't think of Edith that way. She's a nice woman and good company. We're friends and we work together on the estate business. Besides Sybil's death is my fault."

"Your fault? Are you daft man? That wasn't anyone's fault. She got sick. She died. End of story."

"You don't understand. I got myself in that mess in Ireland, me and my big mouth and my high ideals. She shouldn't have been traveling that close to having the baby. If I had stayed out of it, if we had been able to stay in Dublin, she would have been in a hospital. She would have received treatment. She wouldn't have died."

"Christ Tom, that's a lot of ifs. If you had stayed in Dublin and if she had been in hospital she might have died anyway. You said she died from some disease that has no cure."

"She did, but there is a treatment if they find it early enough. There was a slight chance she could have survived."

"Listen to yourself. You're talking in ifs and slight chances and second-guessing yourself. What's important is what is right now. The reality is you're a single father with a good job. You need to get on with things."

"Maybe you're right."

"Of course I am. It would have been a sight to see you in those tight pants though."

"I'll take you riding tomorrow and you can wear them."

"Maybe I'll catch some lass's eye," Kieran exclaimed jubilantly. He was never one to stay on a depressing topic for long.

"Maybe you just might," Tom agreed feeling better than he had in a very long time.


	12. Coming Home

Chapter 12 – Coming Home

The staff was turned out to welcome Edith home as well as Edith's parents, Mary and Cousin Isobel.

"Where's the rest of the family?" Edith inquired once they were all seated in the library for tea.

"Matthew is at the office," Mary replied. "Granny and Tom will both be over later for dinner and of course baby Fredrick is in the nursery."

"Have Tom and Sibby moved out?" Edith inquired with a slightly worried look. "I hope they haven't gone too far."

"Only to Willowbrook House in the village," her mother replied. "Tom thought it best to sleep elsewhere to prevent any gossip from starting back up and I agreed with him. His mother is over from Ireland for the next year or so to keep house for him. He'll be over constantly though to meet with your father and Matthew and he's planning to bring Sibby over at least twice a week for the afternoon to give his mother a break and allow her to have some time with the family."

"I expect we'll see as much of him as when he lived here," Mary commented. "His horse is still stabled here so he'll be by constantly. Never mind all that. Tell us everything about Newport in the summer. I want to hear all the details and family gossip from America."

The family dinner was more relaxed than Edith had anticipated. She and Tom had pretty well gotten over their misunderstanding through the few letters they had exchanged while Edith was away.

"How is Sibby?" Edith inquired.

"Growing like a weed and chattering up a storm," Tom replied. "I rather enjoy being at Willowbrook House. She can join us for meals there, but she does have a tendency to get into my papers and "fix" them for Daddy."

Edith laughed at the face Tom made.

"I visited quite a few large farms and canneries in the rural areas in upstate New York," Edith said. "I've brought back a few samples and I made a great deal of notes."

"There have been quite a few changes in the village while you've been gone. The new Brew Master is here. I think you'll like him."

"What's he like?" Edith asked. Matthew had wandered over to join them.

"Mr. Harris is a nice enough bloke. He's been helping out Mr. Wilks as well as getting the equipment set up since the hops won't be ready until next year," Tom replied.

"It seems he's a third son from a failed family," Matthew supplied. "A widower with two children. He lost his wife to the flu."

"I'll have to get out and meet him tomorrow," Edith said. "I'm rather anxious to get back to things."

"I'll take you round and introduce you, if you like," Tom said.

"Yes that would be lovely," Edith replied.

"Your black currant plot did well this year, so I understand. The jelly sold as fast as they could get it into the jars. Mr. Wilks was talking about increasing the acreage of currant bushes, but I suggested he wait until you return to discuss it," Tom said.

"What are you all busy discussing?" Robert asked as he came over.

"Edith's busy getting her oar back in," Matthew replied.

"Shouldn't you take a few days to rest up," her father questioned.

"I've had eight months to rest up, Papa," Edith replied. "Beside I was rather hoping to go for a ride on the motorbike before it gets too cold.

"Oh good grief," Robert exclaimed throwing his hands up in the air.

Edith looked at Tom before they both burst out laughing. It really was good to be back with her best friend on the estate.

Tom rang the next morning to let Edith know he had set up a meeting with Mr. Harris and would be by in an hour to pick her up. Edith was waiting for him in a pair of trousers and sturdy boots. She looked every bit the lady farmer.

"You're looking very modern," Tom commented.

"I feel it. I think America has rubbed off on me," Edith replied before they tore off to familiarize Edith with the new brewery. They drove part way to the new works when Tom pulled to the side of the road and cut the engine.

"I wanted to have a word, Edith, in private," Tom said.

"What is it?" Edith asked. She had a pretty good idea but decided to let Tom take the lead.

"I just wanted to make sure we are still friends, after everything your grandmother said last Christmas."

"Of course we are. Why wouldn't we be?" Edith replied. "You're one of the best friends I've ever had."

"I'm glad to hear it. You're grandmother suggested we get married in front of the entire family."

"Tom…I didn't put any stock in that. The best solution was to go to New York and let the rumors die down. They're done now. We're free to be friends and business associates and continue on seeing each other at family social gatherings."

"I realize that. It made me think though. No let me finish," he said when Edith was about to interrupt. "I realized that I'm not ready to get married again. I don't think I could go through the birth of another child I had fathered. At least not right now. You were there. You know what happened. Until just a few weeks ago I blamed myself for your sister's death. I've finally accepted that it wouldn't have made any difference no matter what I did."

"Tom, you weren't to blame. No one was. I can't believe you never said anything."

"Whom was I supposed to talk to about it, Matthew? He so desperately wanted a child of his own I couldn't tell him how I felt. I just wanted you to know."

"Thank you for telling me," Edith said. "I was so embarrassed last Christmas I couldn't say a thing. It seemed the easier solution to go on vacation."

"If anything comes up in the future, you'll tell me?"

"Yes, I won't be so silly again. It almost cost me our friendship and a career I enjoy."

"Good, now we best get on to our appointment. It's nice to have someone riding with me who isn't scared to death," Tom said before he started the motorbike again. "I took my mother for her first ride and her last. She was screaming and holding on for dear life with Sibby sitting on her lap, laughing and yelling, "_Faster Da Da, Faster_" or at least something that sounded like it."

"That must have been a sight," Edith said laughing at the picture Tom painted.

"One I'm not soon to repeat," he replied before he reved the engine and pulled back onto the road.

Mr. Harris was a tall man of around thirty-five years with brown hair and eyes and a winning smile. _"He exudes almost as much charm as my two brothers-in-law put together,"_ Edith found herself thinking after they had been introduced. Mr. Harris showed them around the new works which was located at one of the old tenant farms at it had a spring fed water supply that was perfect for the brewing process. Mr. Harris and his family had moved into the farmhouse along with the children's nanny and a housekeeper.

"Mr. Wilks tells me you're a marvel at marketing the estate products Lady Edith," Mr. Harris commented after Tom had left. Mr. Harris had invited Edith to stay to lunch then accompany him into town to meet with Mr. Wilks that afternoon. Tom had declined the invitation to stay as he had to get to a meeting in the early afternoon in Ripon.

"I don't know whether I'm a marvel or not," Edith replied. "The products almost market themselves if they are of a high quality."

They chatted about the plans for the brewery over lunch and some of the existing estate products. Edith was introduced to Mr. Harris' two children before they left for the cannery. Edith had the distinct impression that Mr. Harris was admiring her in her trousers. She didn't have long to wait until her suspicions were confirmed.

"I must admit Lady Edith, you're much younger and more attractive than I had anticipated," Mr. Harris said. "I hope I'm not offending you."

"No not at all," Edith replied blushing profusely. "I take that as a compliment."

"The way everyone has described you're business acumen I was expecting someone much older. I must say I'm pleasantly surprised."

"Just don't let Papa hear you say that," Edith said flirting a little herself.

That evening Edith found herself blushing when she thought of Mr. Harris' compliments. He certainly was attractive and he seemed very knowledgeable about brewing and food production. She had learned that he had attended Cambridge before becoming an officer in the war. He had learned the brewing business from his mother's father and had intended to work with his grandfather until the war and had forced him to make other plans. By the time the war was over his grandfather had passed away and the brewery had been sold. As a third son he had always been expected to work and was quite pleased to have found the position on the estate. Edith found herself liking him a great deal at their first meeting. She crossed her fingers that he would continue to be as nice as he had seemed through their upcoming business dealings.


	13. The Changing Village

Chapter 13 – The Changing Village

Tom stopped by the house a few days later to meet with Lord Grantham and Matthew regarding some new leases he had arranged. He was feeling nervous over his latest piece of news, as he wasn't sure how Lord Grantham would take to the idea of his brother opening a repair garage in the village. The strikes in Liverpool were hurting Kieran's business while at the same time the farmers and towns people were having to go to Ripon to have any machinery or car repairs done. With the new businesses in the village and the increase in traffic there was more than enough demand for car repairs. For all Kieran was rough around the edges he was a good mechanic and would be an asset to the village. Tom just didn't know how the family was going to take the news of his brother moving in with him after their meeting at Sibby's christening.

"You say your brother will live with you at Willowbrook House?" Lord Grantham questioned when he heard the news. He felt a little green at the thought of Tom's brother drinking beer in the drawing room at Willowbrook House, but wisely decided to keep his mouth shut on the subject.

"He'll be staying with me for a while until he gets himself settled," Tom replied. He could feel Lord Grantham's discomfort with the thought of his less than polished brother living in such a grand house. "My mother is there to keep him inline. She'll have him scrubbed and polished and sitting in the front row at mass every Sunday unless I miss my guess." _"and most likely me as well,"_ Tom added silently.

"I certainly can't argue with adding more services to the village," Lord Grantham conceded.

"That brings me to the next point," Tom began glancing at Matthew. "With a car repair garage in the village it would be more financially responsible to have the maintenance for the cars done at a garage than to have a full time mechanic hired here at the house. It would cut the automotive maintenance expenses by almost sixty percent a year."

"I don't like the idea of cutting staff and how would it look if I cut a staff member to give the business to a relative of yours," Robert replied. "I don't like this one bit."

"Tom is being prudent by pointing out the obvious benefits," Matthew soothed. "It is part of his job to cut waste as he can. I've told you many times I think we should live more simply. If we can hire out some of the jobs rather than carry the expense of full time employees we should. I think Tom's suggestion is a good one. We should do a revue of the household staff and determine which positions are becoming redundant."

Robert finally snapped his mouth shut.

"Very well, we'll do a revue. It doesn't necessarily mean we will cut any staff though."

The two younger men glanced at each other with a slight eye roll when their father-in-law's back was turned.

On their way out Matthew asked Tom, "How is it living on your own?"

"I didn't know how much I missed not having to change for dinner every day or make a cup of tea when ever I want without having to ring for it until I moved out," Tom replied.

"I rather know what you mean," Matthew said. "I would like to live a simpler life and be more hands on with little Freddie."

"My Ma balked at the idea of a hired help at first. I had to insist we get a washerwoman once a week for the laundry and a woman half days to help with the cleaning. At first she went behind her and redid everything. She's finally started to accept having help once she realized she would have more time to visit with the other ladies in the village and the house is too big for her to handle on her own."

"I envy you not having to deal with a valet," Matthew sighed. "After all this time I'm still not comfortable with a grown man watching me get dressed."

"No more frilly shirts or stupid hats," Tom sympathized. "I can pick out my own clothes thank you very much. I don't know how you deal with the ladies maid parading around your room every morning. It would give me the willies."

"I can't say I've gotten used to that one yet," Matthew replied. "I keep thinking she'll walk in and catch me in the altogether. You're going to have some fun mixing the two sides of your family."

"It shouldn't be too hard," Tom commented. "Ma can get by easy enough, it's Kieran I'll have to shave the rough edges off. With any luck he'll find himself a girl and be married before too long. I took him riding when he was here last summer. I dressed him up in those tight clothes. He was getting a few looks from the lasses."

"Are you playing matchmaker now?"

"I just might be," Tom replied with a twinkle in his eye. "I have every intention of making my brother presentable enough he finds a girl and my mother leaves me alone."

"Good luck with that. Mine didn't stop nagging me at least once a week until I finally got engaged."

Tom just laughed good-naturedly. If he didn't miss his guess Mr. Harris had been quite taken with Edith the other day. For now Tom had other things to think about not the least of which was settling his brother in next month.

Kieran arrived by car just before the first of the month. He had shipped the bulk of his tools and equipment by train. Strikes were raging in the Liverpool area in the aftermath of the war as people demanded better working conditions and wages. Money was in short supply for most families. He had been able to pick up the car for a song. They had arranged Tom would pay half and have the use in the daytime when Kieran was at the garage. It was easier than going to the main house to borrow a car when Tom needed one when it was raining and made getting around with their mother a lot simpler.

Word had spread in the village and the surrounding area about the new auto repair garage and people had stopped in as soon as they saw the doors open to say hello and book appointments. The fact Kieran was the estate agent's brother wasn't lost on a number of families with single daughters and the dinner invitations had started coming in as fast as the repair appointments. Men were in short supply since the war and a new bachelor in town was a hot topic of conversation.

"Christ, Kieran, just don't embarrass me," Tom informed his brother before Kieran headed out the door to his first dinner.

"Don't you worry about me, Tommy Boy," his brother declared slapping him on the back. "I know a thing or too about getting round the lasses."

"That's just what I'm worried about. This is a small village and word spreads like wildfire. You just mind your manners," Tom said.

"And you leave those nasty cigarettes at home or better yet at the garage. You'll never attract a decent catholic girl with that filthy habit," their mother added.

"Tom didn't marry a catholic girl and you liked her just fine," Kieran reminded her.

"I would have liked her even better if she had been catholic," Mrs. Branson informed him. She wasn't one to let one of her son's get the last word in.

She watched Kieran head off up the lane whistling a tune before she turned to her other son.

"It wouldn't hurt you to start thinking about a new wife either," she informed Tom.

"Ma, not now. I'm not ready for a new wife. I have a child to think about and a job that keeps me busy. I don't have time."

"You'll wind up being a lonely old man, living on your own if you're not careful."

"I'll try not to and besides I have you and Kieran here now to keep me and Sibby company."

"Humpf" was the only answer Tom got from his mother's retreating back. She knew when she was beaten.

Over the winter Tom was surprised by his brother's restraint. Kieran had gone to the pub often enough but hadn't gotten rip roaring drunk or had to be drug home in the early hours. Tom was busy as usual and up to the main house for formal dinners at least three times a week. Mr. Harris had been invited to the house on a number of occasions. From the color in Edith's cheeks when the man was in attendance, Tom suspected it wouldn't be long and they would be celebrating a wedding. He was happy for Edith. She was doing well with her work and even happier with the time she was spending with John Harris. She was on a first name basis with the man, a fact that wasn't lost on anyone in the family. Old Lady Grantham was practically spinning like a top at the prospect of a grandson-in-law from an aristocratic family even if he was employed in the business of making "_swill for the rabble_" as she had put it. No one would ever convince her producing something as common as ale could ever be something that would be considered a respectable business.

At one dinner at the Abbey John Harris had gotten Tom alone for a few minutes in the drawing room.

"So is Edith free?" John inquired.

"As far as I know," Tom replied.

"You two are always together. There's nothing I should know?" John eyed Tom appraisingly.

"We're good friends, business associates and part of the same family. Besides she's the only one around here brave enough to ride in the sidecar. I can tell you any man who hurts her would have to answer to me though."

"Good to know," John Harris replied looking at Tom with a little more respect than he had in the past.

In late March Tom was at the Abbey for a meeting in the library with Robert in the early afternoon when the phone rang.

"Good God, where's Edith?" Lord Grantham demanded into the telephone. "We'll be right there." He set the phone down quickly. "The cannery is on fire. We have to go."

"Edith?" Tom questioned.

"Wilks and Edith are missing!"

"Oh God, No," Tom ground out through clenched teeth as they rushed out the door. Tom had brought the car and left it near the front of the Abbey. As they were going out the door Carson approached.

"There's trouble at the cannery, Carson. Not a word to Lady Grantham until we know more," Robert said.

They could see the smoke in the distance. Tom was so agitated he ground the gears and almost stalled the car twice as they made the short drive into the village. They parked the car and jumped out once they reached the crowd that had gathered to watch the scene. As they pushed through the crowd they came upon a sight of total chaos. Smoke was billowing out the windows of the brick structure. Members of the local fire brigade were throwing buckets of water and sand on the surrounding buildings to prevent the spread of the fire but there was nothing that could be done to save the cannery. Both Robert and Tom were scanning the crowd for any sign of Edith.

Tom could feel the bile starting to rise in his throat. He had to grab his father-in-law in a strong grip to stop him from entering the burning building.

"We don't know that she's in there," Tom yelled over the chaos.

"She's my daughter. I can't loose her," Robert yelled back.

It was all Tom could do to hold onto his father-in-law and prevent him from injuring himself. It seemed like an eternity before a soot covered Edith emerged from the chaos and ran to her father.

"Papa," she called as she raced towards them coughing.

"Edith, oh thank God," her father exclaimed wrapping his arms around her.

"Where's Wilks?" Tom asked searching the crowd for the cannery manager.

"He's at the hospital," Edith gasped out between coughs.

"Where you should be," her father stated. He wrapped an arm around her and started to move through the crowd as Tom pushed people out of their way.

"Edith was anyone else in there?" Tom asked.

"John Harris," she replied between gasps.

"Did he get out?"

Edith could only nod. She was collapsing against her father barely able to walk.

"Let me carry her," Tom said as he swung Edith into his arms. They had her in the car quickly and were headed for the hospital with her father in the back seat holding Edith while Tom drove the short distance.

"All our work, everything is gone," Edith croaked out as they were getting her in the door of the hospital.

"Don't worry about any of that right now. You're safe," Robert said. His face was white and his hands were shaking as he delivered Edith into the hands of a waiting nurse.

The two men stood back and surveyed the room at the hospital. They could see two beds with what looked to be John Harris and George Wilks covered with soot being tended by nurses. Dr. Clarkson was already examining Edith and giving instructions. After a few minutes he came to speak to the two men waiting by the door.

"It's nothing to be concerned about gentlemen. Smoke inhalation that's all. Lady Edith will be fine with oxygen and rest."

"The other two men, Dr?" Robert inquired.

"The same as Lady Edith and a few minor burns. I'd say the three of them were lucky to get off this easily," Dr. Clarkson replied.

"Have their families been notified they're here?" Tom asked.

"We've telephoned Mrs. Wilks. We thought it best not to worry Mr. Harris' children."

"It's probably best," Robert replied. "I'll call Lady Grantham and let her know Lady Edith is here and going to be fine."

Tom nodded and left without another word. He had to get back into town and assess the damage. He was hoping and praying none of the other buildings had caught alight.

By the time Tom got back to the area near the cannery the crowd was starting to thin a bit. Smoke was still curling out the remaining windows of the building but it was obvious the flames had died down. Two of the walls had collapsed into a pile of rubble and burned timbers. The stench of smoke hung thick in the air and black marks surrounded the remaining windows where the worst of the smoke had poured out. Luckily none of the other buildings in the area had caught on fire.

Tom checked with the captain of the fire brigade to see if there was anything he could do. He joined the line of men filling buckets of water, but there was little else that could be done at the moment.

By the time the fire was completely out Tom was exhausted. He headed back to the hospital to check on Edith. He entered to find Lady Cora and Lord Grantham looking peaked and sitting by Edith's bedside. John Harris was sitting up with bandages on one hand and forearm. Mrs. Wilks was there with her husband who had a bandage around his forehead. Both men were still covered with soot.

"Did anything else catch?" Lord Grantham asked when he saw Tom enter.

"No, just the cannery," Tom replied.

"Any idea what started it?" Robert asked.

"No idea. No one can enter yet. It will be a least two days before anyone can go in."

"All our work," Edith said weakly, "It's gone."

"Never mind that," her father replied. "You rest. I'll call Murray to get ahold of the insurer in the morning."

Dr. Clarkson came back into the room.

"They can all go home. My best prescription is rest. Get cleaned up and then into bed all of you."

Lord and Lady Grantham offered Mr. and Mrs. Wilks a ride home in their car while Tom drove John Harris back to the farm.

"You had a lucky escape," Tom commented. "Any idea how it all started."

"None," John replied. "We were in the office when smoke started coming in. By the time we got to the door it was all I could do to push Edith outside. I don't remember anything after that."

"Luckily you are all going to be all right and no one was seriously injured. It was just lucky it was off-season and there were no employees on site. My brother and I will get your car out to you later today sometime if you give me your keys."

John dug his car keys out of his pocket and handed them to Tom once they were in the yard in front of the farmhouse. When John's five-year-old twins spotted their father in such a disheveled stated they ran to him and wrapped themselves around his legs and started crying.

"Hush now, don't cry. Papa is going to be fine." Tom heard John comforting the children as he steered them into the house. All Tom could do was thank his lucky stars his daughter was living surrounded by family who would take care of her no matter what.


	14. Too Much Cheese

Chapter 14 – Too Much Cheese

It was mid-summer and things were busy on the estate. The insurance company had sent out an adjuster who determined the fire had been caused by faulty wiring on one of the pieces of equipment. The cannery had lost the packing boxes and jars for the upcoming season as well as the machinery in the fire. Things had to be rebuilt as quickly as possible. Mr. Wilks and Edith had their hands full putting something together that would allow even a partial processing of the produce on the estate.

"I just don't know if we can do it," Edith told the family one evening at dinner. We might be able to get the jelly jars we need for this fall, but the boxes are difficult. We'll be lucky if we can get out half the products we did last year."

"I don't want you wearing yourself ragged," her mother informed her.

"Neither do I," Robert added. "The business will recover, if not this year then next. Our priority is you."

After the fire Edith and John Harris had begun openly courting. They were spending a great deal of time together and with his children. Most weekends John and the children were invited to the Abbey for riding, fishing or picnics. Edith was being careful not to let her grandmother or anyone else push her in one direction or another where John was concerned and was keeping her own counsel with anything to do with their relationship. From Edith's daydreaming, odd smiles and blushes everyone expected an announcement any day but she remained tight lipped and silent on the matter.

There was a new family in the village a Mr. Clarke, his wife and daughter had arrived from Northern Ireland and set up a cheese works in one of the village buildings. It turned out Mrs. Clarke was English. Their daughter was a young war widow and had nursed her husband for two years after the war. He had finally succumbed to his injuries and she was having a hard time getting over her loss. The Clarke's had decided that a change of scenery and starting over in a new place might be the best move. Mr. Clarke had worked as a cheese maker for his entire adult life. They had enough put aside to rent a small cottage and get themselves established in England.

"What's up with Kieran?" Tom asked his mother one evening after he had arrived back at dusk to find his brother digging in his closet looking for a suit to borrow.

"I'm not sure," his mother replied. "It might be a girl but he hasn't said anything yet."

Kieran had started acting completely out of character. He had gone for a fresh haircut only three weeks since his last. He was shaving twice a day and keeping his mustache trimmed. He had quit smoking and took a bath every evening scrubbing every last dot of grease from his hands. He was ironing his shirts and insisted on borrowing a suit or two from Tom so he wouldn't be wearing the same one twice in a row around the village. Tom had gotten so fed up with his brother's fretting over his appearance he had finally given him two suits he had brought with him from Ireland three years ago since the two brother's were almost the same size and Tom hardly ever wore the suits anymore.

The biggest change in Kieran was at church on Sundays. He wouldn't sit with the family and he had lost his usual jovial demeanor. He was quiet and withdrawn often not joining in with the socializing after the service. After three Sundays in a row of the same behavior Tom spotted Kieran on the side of the crowd obviously watching someone and not making a move. Tom went to join his brother with Sibby sitting on his hip.

"Why don't you go and talk to her?" Tom inquired when he reached his brother's side. He glanced in the direction of his brother's gaze to see the Clarke's daughter, Lorna Brosnan chatting with a group of people.

"She's got at least two other blokes buzzing around her," Kieran complained miserably.

"Since when has that stopped you?" Tom inquired.

Kieran shuffled his feet uncomfortably. Tom had never seen his brother like this. Kieran was always the center of the crowd attracting attention and cracking jokes. Kieran's odd behavior this last while suddenly made sense. Lorna was an attractive woman in her mid twenties with light brown hair and green eyes. She worked at her father's cheese shop. Their icebox was full of packets of cheese Kieran had been buying.

"If you don't go over there and ask her out for a drive this afternoon right this minute," Tom threatened. "I will and I'll take her out on my motorbike."

"Oh no you won't," Kieran stated snapping out of his mood. "I'll take her out and I'll be the one taking her on the motorbike. Not you."

"Then you had best get to it," Tom goaded him. He had been bluffing but Kieran had fallen for it hook, line and sinker. Right at that second Sibby decided to launch herself out of her father's arms and into her uncle's. Kieran was so distracted he pulled Sibby into his arms and marched straight towards Lorna Brosnan to ask her out without thinking even realizing he was carrying his niece.

On the drive back to the house Kieran was considerably perked up.

"I didn't even ask you if I could borrow the bike for the afternoon," Kieran said.

"Go ahead," Tom replied. "I'm taking Sibby over to ride the pony Lord Grantham insisted on getting her anyway."

"He's got it bad," Tom's mother commented a short time later when Kieran had packed a small picnic and headed off on Tom's motorbike to pick up his date. "I just hope she's a nice girl who won't take advantage of him."

"Oh Ma. You nag and nag us to find nice catholic girls and when he finally finds one, you have doubts."

"It's a mother's prerogative to worry."

"And you don't think her parents will be worried when he pulls up on my motorcycle?" Tom replied arching an eyebrow at his mother.

"You just never mind," she said as she turned to go back into the house and fix lunch.

For the next three weeks, Kieran and Lorna had sat together at church and been out at least twice a week in the evenings. Almost every time Tom went by the garage he saw either Lorna coming out of the garage with a smile on her face or Kieran returning with yet another packet of cheese in his hand.

"Enough with the cheese," Tom grumbled one evening over dinner. "When are you going to ask the girl to marry you?"

"I already have," Kieran replied with a loud laugh. "I'm going to her folks house tomorrow for dinner. I'll fix it with her Da then."

"Not with those table manners you won't," Mrs. Branson informed him. "Her father will take one look at you and throw you out the door, but I must say it's about time."

"And what's wrong with my manners?" Kieran demanded of his mother.

"Sit up straight, use your knife and fork and don't pick your teeth," Tom informed him.

"And what am I supposed to do if something gets stuck?" Kieran asked starting to laugh while reaching over to tickle Sibby where she was in her high chair.

"Excuse yourself, go to the loo and fix it," Tom informed him. "It's not that hard to figure out."

"If you say so Mr. La-de-da," Kieran replied. Immediately his posture at the table was noticeably improved and he caught himself before he used his fingers to grab a carrot that had slipped off the side of his plate.

-0-

A few days later Tom was busy packing a large box of groceries into the sidecar. He had filled it with a variety of vegetables from the estate farm, a leg of lamb and three packets of Kieran's cheese collection from the icebox. _"Thank god he's finally engaged,"_ Tom thought to himself. _"Now we might have something besides cheese at every meal." _On his way across the estate he stopped at the hen house that supplied the main house and picked up a dozen eggs to add to the box. When he finally got to his destination he pulled the box from the sidecar and went to knock on the cottage door.

Gerald Hutton had broken his leg while working as a blacksmith on one of the tenant farms. It was a bad break and he wasn't expected to be able to go back to work for at least another six weeks. They were behind in their rent despite the fact that until the accident the Huttons had been good tenants and paid their rent on time. Tom had seen their children dash into the house when he pulled up, so he knew they were home despite the lack of response to his knock.

"Mrs. Hutton please open the door. It's Mr. Branson the Estate Agent. I'm not here to evict you," he called.

Finally the door opened slowly to reveal a worried looking Mrs. Hutton.

"Mr. Branson, how might I help you?" Mrs. Hutton asked hesitantly. Her husband was just struggling into the sitting room on a pair of crutches. The children were nowhere to be seen. Tom could well imagine what was running through the family's heads. He'd seen enough of harsh treatment of tenants in Ireland to last him a lifetime.

"Might I come in Mrs. Hutton? I don't like to conduct business on the doorstep."

"Of course, Mr. Branson," she replied standing to the side to let Tom enter. He noticed the cottage was clean and tidy. It was obvious they were a decent family and Mr. Hutton had done a good trade up until the accident. Tom set the box of groceries on a side table before he turned back to the couple.

"We don't need charity," Mr. Hutton informed him.

"That's not what I've come for. I've come about a temporary position for Mrs. Hutton," Tom replied. "You may have heard my brother is getting married. My mother is determined to clean my house top to bottom before the reception. Our regular cleaning lady is away visiting her sister for the month. I was wondering if Mrs. Hutton might be interested in the position until she returns. It would help me out tremendously. My mother is too old to be taking down curtains and washing walls but she won't admit it."

Tom didn't add that he had sent their regular cleaning lady on vacation to create the vacancy.

"Well, yes, I could certainly help out Mr. Branson," Mrs. Hutton replied nervously while looking at her husband for confirmation.

"The wages would be a box of groceries once a week and the rent on your cottage including the last two months until my regular house keeper returns. I've brought the first week's payment in advance."

"We couldn't accept that. It's much too generous," Mr. Hutton protested.

"It's not generous at all. My mother is Irish and stubborn as they come. Mrs. Hutton will have her hands full dealing with my mother and her determination to have everything just so for the wedding. Perhaps Mrs. Hutton could help out at the reception keeping the glasses and plates full, that sort of thing. No uniform required. Just a regular dress would suffice."

"Alright then, we'll gladly accept," Mr. Hutton agreed with his pride still intact. Mrs. Hutton nodded as well.

Tom spat on his hand and extended it to Mr. Hutton.

"We have a bargain then?" Tom asked.

Mr. Hutton spat on his hand and accepted Tom's. Tom then shook hands with Mrs. Hutton.

"I'll tell my mother to expect you at ten tomorrow morning," Tom told her. "If you want to bring the children along, they can play in the back garden. They won't be in the way."

After Tom had left Mrs. Hutton turned to her husband.

"I certainly regret every word of gossip I ever uttered about that man when he ran off with Lady Sybil," she told her husband while she examined the box of groceries Tom had left. There was easily enough there to feed the family for the next week. Things were beyond tight since the accident and meals had been thin for the last few weeks.

"It's obvious he knows what it is to be on the wrong side of things," Mr. Hutton replied thoughtfully. "For all those fancy clothes and the pretty boy looks, he's a decent bloke for an Irishman."


	15. A Ready Made Family

Chapter 15 – A Ready Made Family

It was later summer. Kieran and Lorna had married a few weeks earlier and moved to a set of rooms over a shop that was between the garage and cheese shop. Tom's mother had decided it was time to go back to Ireland and she would be leaving at the end of September. Tom wasn't quite sure what to do about Willowbrook House. It was too big for just him and Sibby even if he moved in a full-time Nanny and a housekeeper.

Sunday afternoons Tom usually took his daughter to the Abbey to join the family with all of the children as had become the habit over the summer. Today they were sitting in the garden drinking lemonade and eating sandwiches while the children ran among the hedges and flowers playing games and wearing themselves out. Freddie was only just toddling but was busy trying to run after his older cousin and John's twins usually with his father in pursuit.

"What are you going to do now that your mother is leaving Tom?" Lady Cora asked him.

"I'm not sure. Hire some help I suppose," he replied.

"I wish you would move back in here," Lady Cora said. "Sibby is over almost everyday for riding lessons or to play with little Freddie and you take at least half your meals here. I miss having you here full-time."

"I'll think about it," Tom replied non-committedly. "It does seem silly to have that big house for just the two of us. At the very least I think I'll move to a smaller place."

"Well, there's space here for you if you want it," Lady Cora pressed.

"What are you bullying Tom about?" Mary asked as she came over to sit beside her mother.

"You're mother was just saying I should move back in when my mother leaves," Tom replied.

"I don't see why not," Mary said. "There is loads of room here."

John Harris came over and handed Edith a glass of lemonade.

Edith smiled and blushed a little as she looked up at him.

"You have a very lovely garden, Lady Grantham," John said.

"Thank you, John. My girls used to spend hours out here playing games. Wasn't there one you used to play all the time Edith?"

"Catch Me if You Can," Edith replied. "No one could ever catch me."

It wasn't long and the children were organized into the game. The adults had to play as the children were too young to be able to play a running game on their own. John Harris quickly found himself being it. The children ran every which way giggling and screaming not really understanding the game but having a marvelous time anyway. Edith dashed around the end of a hedge and ran smack into John doing a face plant in the middle of his chest.

"I've got you," she cried triumphantly laughing up at him.

"Body and soul," he replied with a serious expression. The smile slowly slid from Edith's face as she stood there gazing up at him.

"Marry me, Edith. Be mine forever," he said.

Edith couldn't form a fitting reply no matter how she tried. She finally managed to blurt out, "I suppose I will, if you really mean it."

"I mean it," he said before he kissed her. Her last coherent thought before his lips touched hers was _"he certainly doesn't have chicken lips."_

Matthew came dashing around the hedge carrying little Freddie to spot Edith locked in an embrace with John Harris. He tactfully made a quick retreat then took the children down to the stables to pet the horses in order to give the two adults some time alone together.

"I've always thought I would like a ready made family if I ever married," Edith said dreamily once they came up for air.

"Mmm and maybe a few more?" John murmured while brushing his lips lightly against hers.

"That could be arranged," Edith replied softly before his lips claimed hers again. This time the ground was spinning and the blood was rushing in her ears and it wasn't from drinking too much Guinness.

"The children will be overjoyed to have a mother home with them all the time," John murmured, still holding Edith against him with his cheek resting against her hair.

"What… what did you say?" Edith said snapping out of her dream like state and pushing back from John's arms.

"I said the children will be happy to have a mother."

"No the part of about staying at home all the time."

"Surely you're not planning to work after we're married?" John questioned with his brow furrowed in puzzlement.

"I most certainly do. At least part time. I've put in as many long hours as anyone else on the new businesses on the estate. Why wouldn't I still be involved? I thought you valued my contributions or was that a complete fabrication?" Edith said getting angry.

"Edith of course I value your work, but you'll be a mother and a wife. You won't have time."

"Oh I see, and are you going to select my friends for me as well as dictate how I spend my time?" Edith demanded getting really angry. She turned and started stomping away from him.

Matthew was just returning from the stables with the group of children when everyone turned to see Edith dashing towards the house with John rushing behind her.

"Edith, come back. Let's talk this out," John called.

"Oh dear, a lover's tiff," Lady Violet commented. "I can't see why that girl can't just reel one in. It's not like they bite the hook that often."

"Mother, must you," Robert growled.

"We mustn't jump to conclusions," Cora commented when she had regained herself from the shock of seeing Edith dashing across the grounds with John Harris in hot pursuit.

"They'll work it out soon enough," Matthew said.

"Or maybe not," Mary replied.

Tom clamped his mouth shut. There was no way he was getting in on any family drama especially where Edith's love life was concerned.

A few minutes later everyone jumped up and ran to the garden entrance when they heard the unmistakable sound of Tom's motorcycle start up. They were just in time to see Edith in her trousers driving Tom's motorcycle and sidecar through the new plantings along the side of the drive before she unsteadily maneuvered the bike back onto the drive and headed out the main gates. John was standing in the middle of the drive in a cloud of dust.

"My shrubbery!" Lord Grantham exclaimed.

"My bike!"

"Never mind that," Lady Cora said. "What about my daughter? Where did she learn how to drive that thing?"

Everyone turned and looked at Tom. The blush flew up Tom's cheeks.

"Well, er uhm," he stammered. "Edith wanted to try driving it when we were out to check on the cherry harvest. So, I um, gave her a small lesson on the back road," he stammered.

"You did what? Without consulting me?" Robert demanded.

"It was harmless enough. We were just having a bit of fun," Tom replied. "You know all work and no play…? What are you glaring at me for? I'm not the one she is arguing with."

Violet had finally managed to make it to the main group to see what all the commotion was about.

"Never mind disagreeing over trivial matters. What are we going to do about Edith and Mr. Harris?" Violet demanded.

"We are not going to do anything," Cora replied. "Edith is a grown woman. She can straighten things out herself."

"She won't get far," Tom said. "I hadn't fueled the motorbike before I came over. It's almost empty."

John finally came over to the group to collect his children. Everyone except Tom and Matthew who were keeping an eye on the children made themselves scarce.

"Come along Alice and Peter, we should be going home now," John said.

"She has a temper, like her sisters," Matthew said quietly as way of commiserating.

"I rather put my foot in things," John said.

"Don't give up," Tom replied. "You never met my wife. If I had given up every time I said the wrong thing and made her mad we would have never made it to the alter. Besides you might find Edith alongside the road when she runs out of petrol."

"I'll keep that in mind," John replied before he left with his two children.

"Daddy, I wanted to play with Peter and Alice some more," Sibby complained.

"Not right now, Sibby," Tom replied. "Daddy and Uncle Matthew have to go look for Aunty Edith in a bit."

"Is Aunty Edith in trouble? You always get mad when I sit on your motorbike without asking."

"No Aunty Edith isn't in trouble," Matthew replied. The two men shared a glance over their children's heads. "At least not that kind of trouble."

"What's going on up at the big house?" Mrs. Branson demanded the minute Tom walked through the door that evening. "Everyone in town is talking. They saw Lady Edith drive through town on your motorbike."

"Nothing to worry about," Tom replied. "The bike is home safe and sound and so is everyone else."

"And you're not going to tell me what's going on?" his mother demanded tapping her foot.

"No, I'm not," Tom said with a finality that stopped his mother's line of questioning on the spot.

It had taken Matthew and Tom well over an hour to find Edith sitting on the side of the road with the motorbike once it had run out of petrol. Once they had ascertained that Edith wasn't hurt and the only problem with the motorcycle was the lack of petroll, Matthew had scolded her for running off in such a reckless fashion and worrying everyone while Tom poured the Jerry can of fuel into the tank that they had brought along in the boot of the car.

"Need I say anything on the point of not resolving an argument?" Matthew asked with a stern expression and a cocked eyebrow.

"There is nothing I haven't told myself already," Edith replied. "I've had a bit of time to think things through while I was waiting for you." She turned towards Tom. "And I suppose you have something to say as well?" she asked with a slight pout.

"No, I think Matthew has about covered it," Tom said noncommittally. "How was the drive?"

"I quite enjoyed myself, once I calmed down a bit," Edith replied shamefacedly.

"The village tongues will be clacking over this one," Tom said.

"Oh don't remind me," Edith replied with a slight groan and then a chuckle.

"Do you want to drive her back or you want me to do it?" Tom asked with a serious face.

"Actually I think I'll take the car if you two don't mind taking the motorbike back," Edith replied. "I think there is someone I need to talk to."

After Edith had driven away Matthew looked at Tom.

"You think he has any idea what he's getting into with a Crawley sister?"

"Not a clue," Tom replied with a chuckle before he kick started the motorbike and waited for Matthew to get into the sidecar.


	16. Back to the Abbey

Chapter 16 – Back to the Abbey

Tom had waffled back and forth on his decision whether to move back to the Abbey or not. He enjoyed the greater independence of living away from the Crawley family and all the formalities associated with a house full of servants. At the same time living with his in-laws did make the most sense for his daughter. She was constantly over to visit her grandparents or taking part in activities at the house or stables. Mary was expecting again and there would be built in playmates plus more female contact once Tom's mother left. In the end, Tom packed their bags once he had seen his mother off and moved the pair of them back to the main house. There was so much gossip running through the village and the social circles in London surrounding the upcoming marriage of Lady Edith Crawley and John Harris, third son of the Earl of Westerfield and father of the current heir everyone left Tom alone.

"It doesn't matter one way or the other if my son is in line to be the future Earl," John had told the family one night. "He will have to study hard, get an education and find suitable employment the same as his father. My older brothers may be playboys who cannot accept they are no longer privileged and wealthy but I do. I've always had to work for what I have and my son's life won't be any different."

It had pushed home the reality of the changes in the social ladder that had come about since the war to Robert in a way the other changes on the estate hadn't. The younger generation wasn't doing things differently out of spite. They were changing the way things were done because they had to. It came down to change or starve there was no middle ground.

John had accepted that Edith needed to be occupied and part of the activity around her to be really happy. Edith had agreed to reduce her hours and she would make a point of being free when the children had finished their lessons. As well they had decided to live with her parents to reduce the time they would have to travel to work with Mr. Wilks or the other family members and allow the children more time with the extended family. The arrangement was on a trial basis as John had lived away from his parents who were now deceased and brothers since he was a young man and wasn't sure how living with his father-in-law and boss would go. Staying at the farmhouse was out of the question as the smell of the brewing hung in the air and made Edith nauseous whenever she visited. The wedding had been set for mid-November. Both Edith and John had wanted a small family affair but due to Edith's social position in the community it just wasn't possible. The house was a hive of activity in preparation of the big day. They had decided on a weekend getaway at a hotel in York for the honeymoon as neither of them wanted to leave John's children for a longer period of time.

The Brewing Company was doing well. John's Grandfather had produced ale with a distinctive taste. The process was a closely guarded secret. Everyone had thought he took the secret with him to his grave, everyone that is except his grandson. John had worked for a large company with a mass produced product before he had come to Downton. He had been looking for a place where he could recreate his grandfather's work and here he had found it along with a new family and place where he and his children could call home. As soon as he had contacted his grandfather's old clients and sent them samples of the new product, there had been no problem getting orders.

Sibby had gotten so excited when she found out Peter and Alice would be joining her to live in the nursery she had made herself sick. Tom had been welcomed home one evening by an over excited Sibby who promptly vomited on her father's best leather boots. He had gotten so fed up when he had a repeat performance the second day in a row, he had determined to get to the bottom of what was going on with his daughter when he wasn't home. Unless he missed his guess the falderal and hustle and bustle of the wedding preparation were just too much for a three-year-old. For now he had another mess to clean up and a daughter to settle.

The next day was Sunday. After church and Sunday school, Tom and Sibby joined Kieran, Lorna and the Clarke's for Sunday dinner. The wedding was only a week away and Sibby was bursting to tell Uncle Kieran about everything that had been happening at the Abbey.

"And what have you been up to all week, Miss Sybil?" Kieran asked her once she was sitting on a pillow on her chair at the Sunday table.

"Oh, I've got so much to tell you, Uncle" three year old Sibby started. She was rather a chatterbox. Tom had been very thankful his mother had insisted on teaching her the value of manners and saying please and thank you. "Alice and I went with Grandmamma and Aunty Mary to the dress shop. We're going to be flower girls in the wedding. We went to a teashop just like grown ups and ate cakes. And I went to Great Grandmamma's house for tea with Grandmamma. A scary man opened the door and Great Grandmamma said she was happy Aunty Edith didn't have to settle for Daddy. I asked her what she meant and she said little pictures have big ears." Sibby continued with barely taking a breath. "We had cucumber sandwiches. I like Aunty Lorna's sandwiches much better. And I went downstairs at our house and had tea with Mr. Carson. I answered the phone for him just like I do at the garage when I visit you. Mr. Alfred lifted me up so I could touch the ceiling in the servant's hall and Mr. Barrow let me wind the clock. Mr. Jimmy keeps lollies in his pocket. He gives me one if I say please. He said he would marry me when I got older only I told him, "No thank you. You're much too old." Everyone laughed and Ivy gave me a handful of raisins and Mrs. Patmore is making a giant table full of cakes for the party. I got to see them and she let me pick a tart to eat. Aunty Edith let me help her open her presents. You should see all the presents! There is a big pile they almost fill up an entire room."

"And where is Nanny when all this is going on?" Tom finally asked. The other adults had their napkins over their mouths to keep from laughing out loud.

"Nanny is taking care of Freddie. He got something called Chicken Plox. Dr. Clarkson said it's con-tage-its. I don't know what that is but Grandmamma said I have to stay away from Freddie for a while so I don't get sick too and her and Aunty Mary would take care of me."

"Have you had a nap while all this is going on?" Tom questioned. He was groaning inwardly at the thought of a group of aristocratic women taking care of a young child full-time. There wasn't a one of them that had spent more than an hour or two at a time with their own young children. There was almost always a nanny or governess present. Even during the family picnics in the summer it was the fathers who had run after the children and seen to their needs. Edith had a little more experience as she was spending quite a bit of time with John's two children, but at the same time they were quite a bit older and well past the need for a nap.

"Daddy, I'm almost four. I don't need a nap," Sibby replied sticking her lip out a bit.

"You're still three and I think you do. I'll have a word with Grandmamma when we get home."

"But Daddy," Sibby started to whine.

"Not another word or I'll take you with me to look at sheep and cows all day and you'll miss all the fun," Tom replied effectively shutting her down.

Shortly before Christmas Tom was starting to feel restless as though there was something missing in his life. He no longer caught himself thinking about a small antidote he would tell Sybil when he got home and then suddenly realizing she wasn't there. He thought of his late wife from time to time but the memories no longer washed over him like a wave of sadness. He was living in a house full of people and children. He had friends in the community and extended family outside the house. One evening when the family had gathered in the drawing room after dinner the realization had hit him. Everyone's lives were moving on. He was the only one who hadn't. Kieran and Edith had both found someone and were settled in their lives and Mary and Matthew were busy having a family. Maybe just maybe it was time to be open to finding love again.

For a time he and Edith had drawn close and it had seemed like there might be something there, but now he realized they would have been settling. Their mutual grief, loneliness and pain had been the magnet that drew them together. Out of it all had come a closeness he didn't share with the rest of the family. They were close friends who could talk over whatever was bothering them and always would be.

"How did you make out with Mr. Watts?" Robert asked him, jilting him out of his reverie.

"I got no where. The trip out to his farm was a waste of time," Tom replied. Mr. Watts was one of the tenant farmers. His farm bordered a neighboring estate. A stream between the two properties had always marked the border of the adjoining pastures. That fall the stream had flooded and changed course. Now there was a dispute as to who had the rights to water and the land with the tenant farmer on the other estate. Both men were pig headed and neither wanted to compromise. "I'll have to call the estate agent for the other property in the morning. We might have to get the surveyor out to settle it."

"It sounds like a colossal waste of time and money," Robert commented. "It has been a shared pasture for generations."

"The other tenant is new in the area. The older traditions are lost on him. I expect I'll be occupied with the dispute all day tomorrow," Tom replied. _"One way or the other tomorrow was going to be another long day in an endless string of them,"_ Tom thought to himself before he turned to Matthew to answer a question he had just asked.


	17. Robert's Relatives

Chapter 17 – Robert's Relatives

"Mycroft Davis just phoned," Robert told everyone the next afternoon. "There has been a train derailment on the line between here and London. He and his wife and daughter are in Ripon. It seems there is not a hotel room anywhere to be had with the lines closed. They wondered if they might come here."

Most of the family was gathered in the library including the Dowager, Isobel Crawley and Lady Rosamund. It was just a few days before Christmas and it was raining heavily. Tom was out dealing with the land dispute and not expected back until late.

"That's a distant cousin on your father's side isn't it?" Lady Cora asked. "How dreadful. I hope you told them to come here."

"My father's first cousin's son on his mother's side," Robert replied. "I've only met him a few times. I told them to take a cab and make their way over."

"His daughter is involved in something musical, I believe," the Dowager commented.

"She plays the piano," Lady Rosamund chimed in. "Quite well I've heard."

"I hope we're not in for a musical review in the main hall," the Dowager commented.

"Mother, it's Christmas try to be hospitable," Robert replied.

John was used to a much more hands on approach of raising children and had insisted the children be included in family gatherings. All four children were at a table in the corner playing chutes and ladders. Matthew was holding Freddie on his lap, helping him roll the dice and move his marker around the board.

The children had just gone with their Nanny for their evening meal when the Davis family arrived.

"Cousin, Mycroft it's been a very long time," Robert greeted his cousin. "Welcome to Downton."

"Thank you so much for taking us in Cousin Robert. We were in rather a bind. Do you remember my wife Danielle and my daughter Lillian?"

"It has been a very long time," Robert replied. "I haven't seen Lillian since she was quite young. Welcome to Downton, both of you. This is my wife Cora."

The pleasantries were exchanged and the guests shown to their rooms. By the time everyone was settled, changed and back down stairs it was time to go in for dinner. The only one missing from the introductions in the drawing room was Tom who hadn't made it back yet.

Tom had been through the wringer with the two tenants and the other estate agent. They had met at a pub on the other estate in the hopes distancing the men from the land they were disputing would ease the tensions. It hadn't helped one bit. They had argued and insulted each other to the point they had almost come to blows. When Tom had tried to step in to stop the fight that was about to break out, the two men had pushed him away like he was a feather. He had landed on a chair in the pub with a resounding crash while the other agent had threatened both of them with building a dam and cutting the flow of water to both properties if they didn't stop. In the end the other estate agent had agreed to allow his tenant an additional small piece of pastureland as compensation for the lost pasture due to the shift in the stream. It had been a thoroughly frustrating day mediating two grown men who should have had more sense.

A strong north wind was blowing when Tom left the meeting. The rain hit his skin as he walked to the car like shards of ice. He was less than halfway home when the rain turned to ice pelts making the road slippery and difficult to navigate. By the time he made it to the Abbey and had pulled the car into the garage the snow was falling so heavily it was hard to see the main house. The drive in the poor conditions had taken twice as long as normal and he was already late for dinner. Tom turned his overcoat collar up to keep out a little of the cold as he entered the house through the servant's entrance. There was no way he was going to take the extra time to go around the front in this weather.

"Alfred, has dinner already started?" Tom asked as he saw the footman coming down the stairs.

"They are through the soup, Sir and just starting on the main course," Alfred replied.

"Please, have Mr. Carson hold a plate for me in the pantry. I'll have it in the dining room once the others have finished. You can tell them I'll be in as soon as I've changed," Tom instructed.

"Very well, Sir. I'll let Mr. Carson know," Alfred replied.

"Thank you, Alfred. I appreciate it."

Tom dashed up the stairs to get cleaned up. He glanced in the mirror as he washed his hands and face and realized his after five shadow was an understatement. He looked like the morning after a hard night. _"More like a hard day being run over by a pair of pigheaded fools," _he grumbled as he shaved as quickly as he dared. As long as nothing else came up that needed his immediate attention he should be free to spend time with Sibby and join in the family celebrations over the holidays.

By the time Tom made it to the dining room, the women had already gone through.

"Oh, Tom, you've finally made it," Robert commented. "We had about given up on you."

"Sorry to be so late," Tom replied. "The roads were terrible getting back and the meeting lasted much longer than expected."

"Meet my cousin Mycroft Davis. Mycroft this is my late daughter's husband Tom Branson."

The men exchanged pleasantries as Tom slid into a chair at the table and Jimmy brought him the plate they had held back in the warmer in the pantry.

"Thank you James," Tom said as he dug into his meal.

"Mycroft and his family were stranded by a derailment on their way to London," Matthew commented.

"I'm afraid you won't be going anywhere in the morning either," Tom said. "The roads will be impassable by then and it could keep up tomorrow as well."

"You'll just have to stay and spend Christmas with us," Robert said to Mycroft as way of invitation.

"We couldn't possibly Cousin Robert. We've imposed enough as it is,"

"Nonsense. We have more than enough room and you can borrow anything you might need. There is no sense attempting to travel in a storm," Robert replied.

"Why were you in Newcastle?" John inquired as way of making conversation.

"Lillian did a recital there for her grandmother's favorite charity. She had another two booked in London, but she won't make those now," Mycroft replied. "My daughter claims she is only a simple piano teacher but she is much better than that. She trained in Paris after the war."

"She must be quite good if she is doing recitals," Matthew commented.

"They are just small ones for one charity or another," Mycroft replied. "She usually plays at a church or private gathering. Lillian has quite the social conscience. She'll only play for hospital benefits or that orphan's aid group she is involved in."

"Perfectly acceptable charities," Robert commented.

"Oh, don't misunderstand me, I'm quite proud of her," Mycroft said. "I just wish she were less political. She's taken it into her head the workhouses should be banned and that we should be doing more for children orphaned as a result of the war. She's constantly trying to persuade her mother and I to adopt one or two."

Tom and John exchanged a look. Spending time as single fathers they both knew the worry that something would happen and their children would wind up in an orphanage or workhouse. Last summer there had been two children orphaned on the estate. The local constable had been about to send the children to the workhouse until Tom intervened. He had found the children a family to stay with and paid their keep from the estate budget. When no relatives had turned up to claim the children he had convinced Robert to put the considerable resources at his disposal to work to try and locate the children's relatives. They had finally found distant relatives of the children living in Ohio who were willing to take them in. For a time Tom had considered taking the children himself rather than see them sent to an institution.

"She rather sounds like my mother," Matthew commented.

Tom had opened his mouth to say something and then closed it before he got in a disagreement with his father-in-law.

"A rather noble cause," John said.

"I'm surprised you haven't anything to say," Robert commented looking directly at Tom.

"I was only going to say I wouldn't want my daughter in one of those places and I'm sure none of you would want your children there either. Something should be done about them. I think it's an admirable goal."

"Yes, well, humpf," Robert exclaimed rising from the table. "This time I can't disagree with you."

"Careful Robert, Tom will make a socialist out of you yet," Matthew ribbed him.

As the men went through John and Tom hung back for a minute to talk with Mr. Carson. John wanted to spend sometime in the kitchen with the older children the next day making special cookies as was his family's Christmas tradition. He asked Mr. Carson to arrange a time when they wouldn't be in the way. Tom was only too glad to have another man around who had been a single father and was used to arranging time to spend with his children. It was taking some adjusting to having three sets of parents with different rules, values and ways of doing things under one roof, but so far it was working out.

"Everyone is bathed, storied and tucked," Mary announced merrily as she returned to the drawing room just as Tom and John joined the group.

"Danielle, this is Tom Branson," Mycroft said. "The missing member of the family."

"A pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Davis," Tom replied to the introduction. Danielle Davis was a woman of about the same age as Cora, with fair hair and a pleasant expression.

"Please call me Danielle," she replied. "This is my daughter Lillian."

Tom turned to greet Lillian who was seated next to Isobel. The two women had been busily chatting up a storm about their charities. As Lillian turned to greet Tom he was stuck by the blueness of her eyes and the soft curve of her full mouth. She was a beautiful girl in her early twenties with blonde hair that had been styled into a roll with pieces that looked like they had escaped of their own accord. His mouth went dry and he had trouble forming a greeting for an instant.

"Miss Davis," Tom finally managed to get out.

"Lillian, please. Only my students call me Miss Davis," Lillian replied with a smile. She could feel a slight blush rising to her cheeks. She hadn't been prepared for quite so attractive or young a man when Cousin Cora had said her other son-in-law would be joining them later.

"Your father tells us you're a pianist with a social conscience," Tom said with a smile starting to spread across his face.

"My father thinks I should be playing in Albert Hall and not wasting my time trying to help the less fortunate," Lillian replied. "He thinks I'm a much better pianist than I am. Are you interested in social causes, Mr. Branson?"

"Call me Tom," he replied. "Everyone in the family does and yes, I have some interest in social causes although I must admit my idealism has been tempered by reality over the last few years. Perhaps you would be kind enough to play something and allow the rest of us to judge your talent for ourselves?"

"Of course," Lillian replied rising to go to the piano. "With your permission, Cousin Cora."

There was no question Lillian had talent as she played a selection from the concert series she had planned for the Christmas holidays. The family gathered round the piano and joined in singing once she switched to traditional carols they all knew. Throughout the evening Lillian stole a number of glances at Tom and rewarded him with a shy smile when he caught her looking at him. His return smile made her heart skip a beat and more than once she looked up to find his his gaze resting on her.

The next morning all three of the Davis' joined Matthew, Robert and Tom for breakfast. John was absent as Edith and her husband usually stayed in bed late on the days they were off.

"You could have rung for breakfast Cousin Danielle," Robert commented when he saw her enter.

"I'm not used to such service, I'm afraid, Cousin Robert" Danielle replied. "We are woefully middleclass. I make do with a housekeeper and a washer woman otherwise Lillian and I both help out around the house."

"What are you're plans this morning, Tom?" Matthew inquired.

"I was going to spend the morning with the children. John and Edith are taking them all to the kitchen after lunch to make some Christmas biscuits," Tom replied.

"How many children do you have, Tom?" Lillian inquired.

"I have a daughter, John and Edith have a girl and a boy from John's previous marriage and Matthew has a son. He's the youngest. We all try to spend time with the children when we aren't working," Tom replied.

"With everyone living here it is a good arrangement for all parties," Matthew commented. "There are five parents in the house and a set of grandparents. The children certainly don't suffer from a lack of attention."

"Not to mention the extended family in the village, between Matthew's mother and my brother and his wife the children are constantly occupied," Tom added.

"You're children are certainly fortunate to have such a large extended family," Lillian replied.

"Perhaps you would like to join me and meet the children?" Tom invited.

"I'd like that very much," Lillian replied rewarding Tom with a smile.

"I'll join you as well," Matthew commented. "Mary won't be up for a bit. She isn't as sick this time around but mornings are still difficult."

Tom found himself feeling pleased Lillian would be joining them. She was certainly a pretty girl and interested in what was going on around her.

Sibby had worried and fretted all morning over her pony, Bluebell. She was most concerned he would be cold and hungry in the snow. Nothing would settle her down but her father's promise that he would go and check on the pony after luncheon if the path to the stables was open.

"My father-in-law insisted on a pony this summer," Tom found himself telling Lillian. "Sibby was a bit young, but I finally consented to riding lessons as long as the pony is on a lead. Billy, is a groom here. He is a very good teacher and Sibby adores him."

"How young were you when you started to ride?" Lillian inquired. "I imagine you were quite young."

"You imagine wrong," Tom replied with a smile. "I rode bareback in the summers at my grandparents. I was probably around six or seven and the horse was quite ancient. I didn't start to ride properly with a saddle until I became the estate agent, three and a half years ago."

"You weren't raised with all this?" Lillian asked in surprise.

"No, I'm afraid not," Tom replied. He was never sure how people would take the news that he wasn't part of the gentry. "I started out as a tradesman. A chauffeur actually."

"You've done very well for yourself," Lillian commented. "I quite admire people who work their way up rather than having things handed to them."

"It's been rather a bumpy journey. I will tell you about it one day when we have more time," Tom replied with a smile of relief.

After luncheon, Tom headed to the stables to check on Bluebell as promised and Lillian volunteered to accompany him.

"You mentioned last night your social idealism had been tempered by reality. What did you mean?" Lillian asked as they made their way down the path that had been cleared. The snow was still falling heavily but the wind had died down. Tom had to steady Lillian so many times on the walk she finally took his gloved hand in a firm grip with both of hers to stop from falling.

"I used to be very idealistic. I thought change had to be forced. When I became a father and my wife died I had to reorganize my priorities. Once I started working as an estate agent and was in a position of authority I realized change isn't easy from either side. We've been working to change things here on the estate with most of the family involved. It's been a great deal of hard work with some set backs and not everything we've tried has worked. In the end we've increased productivity and are turning a profit. At the same time we've managed to create employment and improve the lot of the people who live here. I guess what I'm trying to say is change for the better good takes hard work with both sides willing to change."

"You still sound very idealistic," Lillian commented smiling slightly at Tom. "My father doesn't like to here about my causes."

"My father-in-law's views on social responsibility are quite socialist but don't tell him that," Tom said with a slight laugh. "It's like waving a red flag in front of a bull."

They had arrived at the stables. Lillian still hadn't let go of his hand while they entered the building and Tom didn't mind one bit. _"This is going to prove to be a very interesting Christmas after all,"_ he thought as he smiled at Lillian and introduced her to Bluebell.


	18. Invitations

Chapter 18 – Invitations

Tom phoned his brother on Christmas Eve. The roads were still terrible and they decided not to attempt going to mass. It was a big part of Christmas for both of them and Tom regretted they wouldn't be able to take part, but staying home where it was warm and safe took priority. The house was a hive of activity with a house full of people and four children gazing longingly at the presents under the tree and joining in the family gathering. Isobel and the Dowager had both stayed at the house since the beginning of the storm. Lady Rosamund had finally made it to the house but the trip up and even the short drive from the station had been treacherous and was full of delays.

Through the last two days Tom found himself having a number of conversations with Lillian. He found himself drawn to her more and more. On more than one occasion he had caught himself staring at her lips while she was speaking and wondering how they would feel against his. Despite their ten year age difference they seemed to have a great deal to talk about although after each conversation he would have been challenged to repeat one word of what they had been discussing.

He quickly learned Lillian had no patience with shopping and the current fashions. She chose to wear her hair long and twist it up into a bun rather than fuss with the complex waves and crimps of the current styles. She was fiercely dedicated to her music and her charity work concerning the plight of orphaned children. She taught music lessons from the home she shared with her parents and volunteered one day a week to teach music at one of the better orphanages in London.

"If the leading families would adopt these children, it would go a long way to prove to people there is nothing to fear by bringing a child into your home," Lillian had informed the family over Christmas Eve dinner. "How can a baby or young child possibly be corrupt at birth. The wives tales and superstitions surrounding orphaned children are ridiculous. Attitudes need to change. It breaks my heart every time I walk out the door of the orphanage where I volunteer. There are so many wonderful children who society treat as unwanted trash."

"My, my, quite a radical view point hiding behind such an attractive demeanor. I thought one revolutionary in the family was quite enough," the Dowager commented.

"The plight of orphaned children is hardly an revolutionary cause, Granny," Mary said.

"Attitudes won't change overnight," Isobel said as a way of softening Lillian's outburst.

"Tom almost adopted a pair last summer," Robert commented to divert attention from his mother. "Fortunately relatives were located to take them in."

"So you've considered adoption, Tom?" Lillian asked with raised eyebrows. Her father was looking annoyed at her stating her views so openly, but she was pointedly ignoring him.

"It would have been a last resort," Tom replied. "I couldn't stand to see the pair of them shipped of to an institution. As it turned out they found a home to welcome them in."

"It would be a blessing if more people would have charity in their hearts," Lillian commented.

"Lillian you can't bully people into taking in unwanted children," her mother said in hopes of getting her daughter off her favorite topic.

"Well, I for one am glad to have married into a family that has welcomed my children," John commented giving Lillian a small smile.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be insensitive," Lillian replied feeling properly chastised.

"It's quite commendable you feel such a strong sense of obligation, my dear," the Dowager stated. "It is often absent among our class. Isn't it about time you found a husband and started a family of your own?"

"Oh, Granny," Mary and Edith groaned out in unison. There was a moment of silence before everyone in the Crawley clan started to laugh until the tears ran down their cheeks with the Dowager and Rosamund looking perplexed. Lillian and her parents didn't understand the joke either.

"I don't see why marriage is a laughing matter," Rosamund chirped up. Which started everyone laughing all over again.

Christmas Day dawned bright, clear and cold. The snow had stopped falling but the roads were like a sheet of ice and it would take some time to dig out from the blizzard. After some negotiating among the adults it was finally agreed the children would join the family at the dinner table in the formal dining room for Christmas dinner. Mr. Carson looked as though he were goining to faint when Freddie's high chair was carried in and pushed up to the table and a large pillow from the library was added to Sibby's chair. Alice and Peter were almost six and had no problem sitting to the table on a regular chair.

Sibby was her usual precocious chatterbox self and promptly hugged each of the butlers and footmen and said, "Happy Christmas" as soon as she entered the dining room. The Dowager and Lady Rosamund looked like they were going to faint at the familiarity Sibby displayed with the servants. They were practically spinning when little Sybil's father went behind her and wished each of the men a Happy Christmas and shook their hands before he got his daughter seated.

"Not too much chatter," Tom whispered into Sibby's ear as he pushed her chair up to the table. He was promptly rewarded for his warning by his daughter's arms going around his neck and a kiss landing on his cheek. Sibby managed to hold her tongue until the Christmas pudding was served.

"I want to be called Sybil from now on," she announced all of a sudden. "Mr. Carson calls me Miss Sybil and I like it better. Sibby is a baby name. You don't have to worry who I will marry when I grow up, Great Grandmamma. I'm going to marry Peter. If he doesn't want to I could marry Mr. Jimmy even though he is kind of old. Can Isis have some Christmas pudding too?"

"Isis doesn't eat Christmas pudding. It would make her sick and from now on we will call you Sybil," her grandfather replied smoothly. "We can discuss who you will marry when you're quite a bit older."

"And finished school," Tom added.

"May we play the game too Papa?" Peter asked solemnly. He was a rather serious child and hadn't said a word through the entire meal.

"For a little while," Edith replied. Alice and little Sybil exchanged happy looks. Freddie was occupied having a small blob of Christmas pudding shoveled into his mouth by Lillian who had taken over feeding him when he had gotten more of his Christmas dinner on his face than into his mouth.

As the family raised their glasses in toast, Robert looked at Cora and smiled. This wasn't quite what he had always envisioned a family Christmas would be once his daughters were married with families of their own but it was one of the happiest Christmases he could remember in a long time.

On Boxing Day the roads were open again and the trains were running. Lillian had promised Cora to return and play a concert in February as a hospital fundraiser.

"Perhaps you might care to bring you're daughter down to London for a visit," Danielle said to Tom as they were saying their goodbyes. "You and Lillian could take her to the British Museum or the zoo."

"I'm sure we would both enjoy that very much," Tom replied flushing a little. He wasn't used to the rules for invitations and courtship in the upper and middle classes but he was quite glad to know Lillian was expressing some interest even if it was via her mother.

"I'll write and send you a few dates to choose from," Lillian said before she left with her parents.

"You've made quite a hit," Matthew said to Tom after they had seen the Davis family off.

"She is pretty enough and a nice girl," Tom replied blushing a little. "How do I go about asking her back without being too obvious?"

"Have Cora write and invite her to the Servants' Ball or the New Year's Day shoot," Matthew replied with a knowing smile.

"You people have too many rules," Tom complained. "Back home you just asked them to a dance or to walk to church."

"And you courted your late wife how?" Matthew ribbed him.

Tom groaned. "Forget I even mentioned it."

Matthew slapped Tom on the back as they headed back into the house.

"You are in so much trouble," Matthew teased him.

Tom only flushed and laughed. It would soon be 1924 and it looked like it was going to be a good year.

-0-

"Can we go meet the king when we are in London Daddy? I would like to see his crown. Are we going to see a bear at the zoo? Do I get my own room while we are there? Are there really pigeons in Trafalgar Square like Grandmamma said? Can we feed the pigeons if we see any?" Sybil badgered her father all the way to London on the train with one question after another. She was terribly excited and feeling quite grown up to be going to London with her father without Nanny in tow.

"I can't answer all of your questions if you ask them at once, Sybil," Tom replied. "Settle down and look at your picture book. We will be there before you know."

Tom was feeling nervous himself at the weekend trip to London to visit Lillian and her family. He seldom went to London and he was even more nervous about spending time with Lillian away from Downton. She had been up to Downton for the Servants' Ball. They had danced together more than once, gone for a walk in the moonlight, and spent most of her visit together but he had yet to kiss her or make any romantic move towards her. He liked Lillian a great deal, the chemistry was there and his heart made an odd beat whenever she walked into a room but it had been a long time since he had been involved with a woman in a romantic way. He was afraid he would mess things up as he had so many times while trying to fit in to the upper class way of life.

Tom stepped off the train with his daughter by one hand and carrying the bag he had packed for the two of them in the other. Sybil's eyes were wide at the crowd and sites around her in the station but it didn't slow her tongue down one bit.

"London must be the center of the world, Daddy. There are so many people. Where do all the people come from?"

"London is not the center of the world, Sybil, although some of the English might think it is," her father replied. "The people come from all over the same as us. Now no more questions until we get a cab."

Tom was feeling a bit sick with nerves by the time they were standing on the doorstep of the Davis' home. It was a nice home in row of other's that was painted white with black shutters. It wasn't in one of the most exclusive areas of the city but the houses were obviously well kept and the neighborhood was definitely one of the upper middle class.

"Tom, how nice of you to join us," Danielle said as she opened the door.

"Thank you for inviting me," Sybil said with a curtsey before her father had a chance to say a word. Nanny had made her practice her curtsey before they left and coached her on exactly what to say.

"You're most welcome, Sybil," Danielle replied with a smile in response to Sybil's formal greeting. "Come right in. Tom, you can leave your bag in the hall the housekeeper will see to it."

"Thank you for having us," Tom said once he could get a word in edgewise.

Lillian came into the hall with a beaming smile when she saw them. Sybil was already asking questions of Danielle as fast as she could. Danielle had her by the hand and was leading her off to the parlor.

"Sybil stop asking so many questions," Tom called after her. He might as well have saved his breath when his only answer was Danielle's faint laugh.

"I'm very glad to see you have arrived safely," Lillian said as she came forward and placed a kiss on Tom's cheek. She drew back slowly. Tom was trying to form a coherent thought but not a thing would come out as he stood there staring into Lillian's face while she stood only a few inches away staring back.

"I hope my daughter doesn't wear out our welcome too quickly," he finally managed to say. They still hadn't moved.

"I'm quite sure that won't happen," Lillian replied equally motionless until Sybil suddenly came back into the hall.

"Hello, Lillian. Thank you for inviting us to your house," Sybil said with a curtsey. She was quite taken with herself for finally getting it down pat.

"Hello, Sybil. Welcome to London," Lillian replied smiling at the little girl.

"Daddy aren't you coming? We're going to have tea and it's getting cold."

"That will never do," Lillian replied taking Sybil by the hand, then smiling up at Tom.

"No, it wouldn't do to let things sit for too long," Tom said quietly smiling back at Lillian. "It won't do at all."

The next day Sybil had practically bounced through the morning at the museum they visited. It had been raining heavily which made a trip to the zoo out of the question. By the time they found a teashop and had lunch Sybil's eyelids were starting to droop. She finally gave in and fell asleep on the bench seat beside her father.

"So much for I don't need a nap anymore," Tom said to Lillian with a small grin.

"She's a lovely child, Tom. You've done well raising her on your own," Lillian replied.

"I've had a great deal of help. Do you mind if we have another cup of tea and let her sleep for a few?"

"I don't mind at all."

Once the dishes were cleared and they had their fresh tea, Tom took a breath. He needed to tell Lillian about his past and let her decide if she wanted to pursue a relationship with him.

"I'm glad we have a few minutes to ourselves," he began. "I need to tell you a few things about myself."

"You're sounding rather mysterious," Lillian replied flirting a little.

"Lillian, look. I'm not exactly what I appear to be," Tom said. He told her the whole story of how he had started out as Lord Grantham's chauffeur and courted the youngest daughter of the house in secret and the trouble he had gotten into in Ireland that had barred him from returning to his homeland and still did. He told her about his late wife's death and the fact that he had his job because his in-laws hadn't wanted him to leave with their granddaughter. "The fact is underneath all the manners and ways I've learned that help me fit in the life I lead now, I'm still just a mechanic. A Mick who goes out and fixes the machinery on the farm when I need to be reminded not to get too big for my boots."

When he finished he realized Lillian's hand was in his on the table and she wasn't pulling away. The though suddenly occurred to him how different her hands were from his late wife's. Sybil's hands had always been soft. Even when she worked as a nurse she used lotion to keep the skin soft and supple. Lillian's hands were strong from the hours spent at the piano. Her nails were short and there were callouses on the pads of her fingers from her chosen profession.

"Shall I tell you what I see?" Lillian said softly. She didn't wait for Tom to reply when he looked up quickly. "I see a man who's a good father with a kind heart who is playing the cards he's been dealt."

"You're being kind," Tom replied curling his fingers around hers a little.

"I'm being honest," Lillian said looking into his eyes. She appreciated Tom's honesty. It couldn't have been easy for him to tell her the truth. She could feel him steeling into her heart a little more every second they spent together.

Sybil stirred on the bench and suddenly sat up rubbing her eyes.

"What did I miss?" Sybil asked. "Are there any pigeons we can feed? I would awfully like to feed one. Can we go on a steam train? Peter said some people call the steam trains the tube. Why would you call a train a tube?"

"I'm sure we can find a pigeon to feed if it has stopped raining," Lillian replied. "The tram system is called the tube because it goes through tunnels under the city in places that resemble long holes in the ground."

As they stepped back out onto the street, the sun was just starting to break through the clouds. Tom had Sybil by the hand. Lillian was on the other side with her arm curled around his.

"Where to next?" Lillian asked.

"Where ever you would like," Tom said looking down into her eyes. She knew he really wasn't talking about sightseeing. Lillian blushed then looked up at the clear sky.

"I think it's time to feed the pigeons," she said.

"Hurray," Sybil cheered with a bounce. She was clutching the small bag of bread crusts from the restaurant they had requested for just that purpose. This was turning out to be the best trip ever. Her father had said so last night when he tucked her in and she couldn't have agreed more.


	19. Second Guessing

Chapter 19 – Second Guessing

"Some friends of mine are having a get together later. Would you like to go?" Lillian asked Tom that afternoon. He had been about to ask her to go to the cinema or dancing later if her mother would be willing to keep an eye on Sybil once she was in bed.

"Of course," Tom replied. "If you're mother doesn't mind watching Sybil. She will be tired enough she shouldn't be much bother."

"Mama said she would watch her earlier this week. My parents seldom go out on weekends," Lillian replied.

Sybil was so exhausted she was tucked in and fast asleep well before the family sat down to the evening meal.

"Don't worry about your daughter," Danielle told Tom. "We will be here all evening. I'm sure she won't be any problem."

Tom was glad he had his tuxedo freshly cleaned when Lillian came downstairs to join him to go out for the evening. She was wearing a flapper dress with rows and a row of beads and a hat to match that covered her hair and was trimmed with matching beads.

"My concession to modern fashion," Lillian quipped as she joined Tom. Tom was speechless. Lillian was a pretty girl, but she was strikingly beautiful when she was dressed up. "I hope you won't be bored," she continued. "I'm afraid my friends are all musicians. They play music, talk music and sometimes I think they even dream music."

"I'm sure everything will be fine," Tom replied. His face was slightly flushed with pleasure at the prospect of being out with Lillian without his daughter in tow.

Tom was pleasantly surprised by Lillian's friends. They ranged in age from twenty to forty and there were at least ten couples at the get together. Every one there was either a musician, married to a musician and in some cases both husband and wife were musicians. They took turns playing music while everyone danced. As soon as one set of instruments was put away another was produced. The dances ranged from the very latest fads to traditional.

When everyone took a break from dancing Tom found himself sitting on the arm of a sofa with a cocktail in one hand and the fingers of his other laced through Lillian's while she sat on the sofa and leaned against his leg.

"How did you meet?" one of the women in the group asked Tom.

"Lillian is a distant cousin of my late wife," Tom replied. "We met through a family connection.

"So no hidden wife this time, Lillian," one of the men said. There was a course of laughter.

"Has she told you what happened when she found out the last man she went out with had a wife?" another of the men asked Tom.

"No, I hadn't heard about that," Tom replied with a small smile.

"I put him out of a cab in the middle of a bridge in the pouring rain," Lillian said looking up at Tom with a laughing smile. "When he said, _"But I'll get all wet."_ I told him he could explain it to his wife."

Everyone including Tom laughed.

"Or how about the one before that who informed you orphans were a waste of time as they would never amount to anything," another one of the group commented.

"I'm afraid I was rather clumsy and spilled my drink down the waist band of his trousers," Lillian said sweetly with a twinkle in her eye. "He was quite angry but I told him it didn't matter as nothing he could ever produce from his trousers would ever amount to anything anyway."

Everyone in the room laughed and toasted Lillian with their cocktails.

"Enough of my sordid past," Lillian exclaimed standing up and pulling Tom with her. "It's my turn to play. I think a tango is in order."

"It's a dance from South America," she told Tom as she settled on the piano bench and motioned him to join her.

Tom was mesmerized by Lillian's playing she barely looked down at the keys while she played. A smile curved her lips as she watched the couples dance in the middle of the room. Tom glanced towards the dancers to see three couples engaged in the most erotic dance he had ever witnessed. The movements were sensual and suggestive with elaborate lifts and dips that left no question as to what the dance was meant to portray. The other couples stood or sat around the edge of the room watching the performance, oohing and awing when one of the couples performed a particularly difficult move. Tom felt his mouth go dry as he watched. He glanced at Lillian when she looked down during a particularly complex part of the melody. The music suddenly stopped with everyone watching shouting, "Ole!" and the six people on the dance floor kissing their partners.

"The tango always ends with a kiss," Lillian said turning to Tom with a blush rising to her cheeks.

"Who am I to argue with tradition," Tom replied with a slow smile as his hand moved to the back of Lillian's neck and he brought his lips down on hers. The feel of her soft lips against his was everything he imagined it would be and more. He lost himself in the sensation until the chorus of catcalls and whistles finally permeated his hearing and they drew apart. The two of them sat staring and smiling into each other's eyes with a blush rising to Lillian's cheeks.

"Ok, move. It's my turn to play," one of the men said approaching the piano. "Wallace, Wills come play the fox trot we've been rehearsing."

Tom rose and took Lillian in his arms to dance as the music started. As far as he was concerned the rest of people in the room could have disappeared into a puff of smoke for all the attention he paid them. He was dancing with a beautiful woman who made him feel younger and happier than he had in the last three and a half years. It was a good night to be alive.

-0-

"How did things go?" Lillian's mother asked her when Lillian returned from seeing Tom and his daughter off on the train.

"Lovely," Lillian replied dreamily. "I like him an awfully lot. He's so modern and old fashioned at the same time he's almost courtly. It's quite lovely."

"Did he say anything?" her mother inquired.

"He asked me if I would go on a tour of the estate with him, just the two of us, next month when I go to Yorkshire for the benefit."

"You don't know him that well, just be careful," her mother warned. "I don't like the idea of you being out with him without a chaperone or at least a group of your friends.

"Cousin Robert trusts him well enough to have the man live in his house and run his estate," Mycroft commented from behind his newspaper. "Let the girl live a little."

"Thank you, Papa," Lillian said dreamily as she practically floated towards the stairs.

"She wears her heart on her sleeve," her mother commented once Lillian had left the room.

"From what I saw he wasn't much better," Mycroft replied.

"My baby could get married and move out," Danielle said. "Then what would I do?"

"Go to the orphanage and get one to cluck over, like your daughter is always pestering us to do," her husband replied flicking his paper.

"You're serious?" his wife said with a slight frown of concern.

"Why not? We've raised one successfully. I rather liked having the little one here for the weekend. It would give us old fools a little youth in our lives."

"Are we really that old?" Danielle asked going to sit in her husband's lap.

"Not that old," Mycroft replied tossing his paper to the side and pulling her close.

-0-

The day of the hospital benefit was drawing near almost a month after Tom returned from London and he was a nervous wreck. _"Do I ask her or don't I ask her? Will she say yes? Will she turn me down flat? Is it too soon? What if we get married and she gets pregnant? There are hospitals in London, good ones, but you don't live in London."_ ran over and over in his mind like a freight train that wouldn't stop. The evening before Lillian was to arrive his hands shook so bad it was all he could do to get the soup into his mouth at dinner without dumping it down the front of his shirt.

"Settle down man," Matthew said to Tom in the drawing room after dinner. "You look like you're about to faint."

John wandered over to see what the other two were talking about.

"I'm going to ask her," Tom said fidgeting with his drink.

"Lillian seems like a very nice woman," John said in way of encouragement.

"You'll never get it out if you don't relax," Matthew said. "You've asked a girl to marry you before. It isn't that hard. I did it three times before I got it right."

"You don't know the half of it," Tom replied miserably. "Last time it took me two years to get up the courage then I lost my dinner for four nights in a row before hand. I forgot everything I had planned to say and blurted out some ridiculous overly romantic nonsense. Afterwards I couldn't remember a thing I had said."

"You must have said something right, she married you," John commented.

"It took my first wife two years to give me an answer," Tom replied despondently. "I don't think I did a very good job of it."

"I've proposed twice," John said. "Both times it just came out. You know how bad I messed up the second one and we still got married."

"If she says yes, you won't be one of the Crawley husband's anymore," Matthew teased giving Tom's shoulder a pat of encouragement.

"She may have a different last name but she's a family member alright," Tom said. "Beautiful and serene on the outside with a temper to match on the inside."

The next morning Tom stopped by the graveyard on his way to meet the train. He stood by Sybil's headstone for a long while.

"It's time my love. Our year together was beautiful, but it's time for me to move on. I've found someone to love. I think you'd like her."

He traced his fingers over the carved name in the headstone before he placed his hat back on his head and returned to the car.

-0-

"Please Daddy, please may we go down and see Lillian," Sybil begged.

The four children had come out onto the landing with Nanny to look down at the final preparations for the hospital benefit in the great hall. The grand piano had been moved in from the drawing room, chairs were set up and the bouquets were receiving last minute adjustments. Lillian was at the piano arranging her music and warming up.

"I'm sorry Mr. Branson," Nanny said. "The children were so excited I thought it wouldn't hurt if they came out on the landing for a short while."

"There's no need to apologize," Tom replied. "Miss Davis was asking after them at the station." He turned to the children holding their breaths in anticipation. "You can go down to say hello but then right back up stairs out of the way."

"Thank you Daddy."

"Thank you, Uncle Tom."

Freddie managed to make a noise that sounded something like the other children before Nanny carried him down the stairs.

Tom was watching over the rail as the children approached Lillian and each received a hug. The three oldest children nodded their heads vigorously at something she told them before they all turned and headed back upstairs to their vantage point. It wasn't long before the ticket holders started to arrive. Tom had decided to stay upstairs with the children to help keep an eye on them. Pillows from the day nursery were brought and the children took up their posts peering through the railing to watch the activity.

Lillian played the first half of the concert in what seemed to Tom in a flawless manner. They were all well-known classical pieces that brought a great deal of applause from the audience. The audience for the benefit was made up from what Tom recognized as Lord Grantham's aristocratic and wealthy friends. It was quite different than the average hospital benefit that attracted people from the local area. At the intermission Lillian was surrounded by well-wishers and those who wanted to meet her. At one point she looked up and flashed him a smile before she went back to shaking hands and working the crowd. Tom noticed a number of the men reaching in their pockets for their checkbooks after they had spoken to her, which was quite a feat as the tickets for the concert had not been cheap.

Lillian retook her seat at the end of the intermission. Tom's eyes opened wide when she began to sing a haunting melody as she played. He had no idea she could sing or sing that well. Doubt assailed him. _"How could he possibly ask her to come here to a country home in Yorkshire away from London and the opportunities available there for her talent? Who was he? Just a nobody with a past and a child she had met when stranded in a winter storm." _She played on singing one song after another each as beautiful and haunting as the last. Tom's hands were shaking so bad he hardly realized when Lillian had stopped playing and spoke to the audience.

"Some of you may know that I have dedicated my gifts to helping others and the betterment of the lives of children. To that end I would like to ask our host Lord Grantham's three eldest grandchildren, Peter, Alice and Sybil to come down and join me. We prepared a small piece on my last visit to Yorkshire."

The three of them were on their feet and at the front by the piano in a blink. Lillian directed them for a moment and began to play. All three children sang a song with her Tom had never heard before that had something to do with birds and hills. For the final selection Lillian played a popular tune and gestured for the audience to join her in song.

After the music died away there was a standing ovation and more checkbooks pulled from pockets. Cora was in the middle of it all smiling and accepting congratulations on the benefit. The Dowager was sitting on her chair imperiously nodding and accepting accolades left and right. Tom spotted Dr. Clarkson looking like he would burst with excitement.

Tom finally moved down into the crowd once it started to thin. He couldn't believe he had been about to propose to her the next day. A woman with that much talent would probably throw it back in his face and laugh at him. He was startled when he felt a hand touch his arm.

"When are we going on the tour you promised me last month in London?" Lillian asked with a smile.

"Would the morning after breakfast be agreeable?" Tom said stiffly without his usual smile.

"Of course," Lillian replied confused by his demeanor. "I'll be ready." She didn't have a chance to say more as there were people waiting to speak to her. As she turned back to the concert guests a prickle of disappointment ran up her spine. Something was wrong but to find out what it was she would have to wait until tomorrow.


	20. Interuptions

Chapter 20 – Interruptions

"The sheep are out in the north section, Tom has had to go to take care of it," Matthew told Lillian when she came in for breakfast in the morning. "He asked if you would mind going out after lunch instead. He said something about going by horseback since it isn't raining."

"Oh," Lillian replied trying to hide her disappointment. "I suppose that will be fine. I was going to go back on the six o'clock. I'll phone mother and let her know I've been delayed."

Matthew and John exchanged a knowing half smile. Tom had been fretting all night that he wasn't good enough for Lillian. It had taken them quite a while to talk him down after everyone else had gone to bed.

"Why don't you stay until tomorrow?" Robert said. "Unless you have to rush back."

"I don't have any students until tomorrow afternoon. I'll take you up on that offer, Cousin Robert," Lillian replied.

"I can't believe how well the children performed yesterday with very little practice," John commented. "You did very well teaching them in a short time."

"I keep telling everyone my true calling is teaching," Lillian replied. "I made three errors in the first half of the program yesterday. Nothing the lay person would notice but glaring to a professional."

"You did extremely well. Much better than anyone in the local area would have done and the hospital will be well outfitted for the next year," Robert replied.

"If you'll excuse me, I have to get to the office," Matthew said.

"And I need to get to the brewery," John added. "I'll see you all at dinner."

"I'm afraid I must run off as well," Robert said. "Why don't you go through to the drawing room? My wife or Edith should be down by now. Mary isn't up to mornings these days."

"Don't concern yourself, Cousin Robert. I'll find something to amuse myself," Lillian replied. She was still worried about Tom's coolness last night. Things had seemed to be going so well. He had greeted her warmly enough when he met her at the train. _"Stop it. You're reading too much into things," _she told herself.

Cora was busy with her needlepoint and Edith was sitting at a desk going through a huge pile of correspondence when Lillian went into the drawing room.

"Good morning," Edith said. "I thought you and Tom were off this morning around the estate."

"Tom had to go see to some sheep, Cousin Edith. We've rescheduled for this afternoon," Lillian replied.

"Robert said, apparently the sheep got out last night and are all over for miles. How dreadful for Tom. It will take simply ages to round them all back up," Cora commented.

"There are dogs and men for that, Mama," Edith informed her. "I think the problem is more the man who didn't mend the fence in the first place."

"Still, Tom works too hard," Cora clucked. She eyed Lillian appraisingly. "Are you looking forward to going out to see the estate this afternoon?"

"Yes, I think I am," Lillian replied without too much enthusiasm.

"My dear, whatever is the matter?" Cora asked her. Edith put her pen down and came over to sit with the other women.

"I don't know. Tom was acting so strangely yesterday evening after the concert," Lillian replied.

"I wouldn't worry, we're all expecting an announcement any day now," Cora replied with a smile. "You couldn't find a kinder hearted or hard working man."

"Yes, I realize that," Lillian replied. She didn't know these women well enough to be discussing her personal affairs, but she had been around enough of the aristocracy to know they discussed marriage as easily as if they were discussing the weather.

"Tom is very nervous," Edith said. "He is easily hurt and doesn't like to be laughed at. Most people think he shrugs things off, but underneath the well mannered exterior he is quite sensitive."

"No one particularly likes to be laughed at," Lillian replied looking down at her hands.

"He is a dear and he tries hard," Cora said. "Quite often he tries too hard. I'm sure that is all it is."

"I hope you're right," Lillian said.

"It's like his first shoot," Edith said. She told Lillian the story of the disastrous shoot and the pair of them lying in on the wet ground with a dead bird on top. Which made Lillian laugh.

"It is funny now," Edith said, "but at the time he was quite devastated even though he tried to laugh it off. My advice to you is to make him tell you exactly what's bothering him. It might take some doing to get it out of him. I know that sounds odd coming from a member of the aristocracy."

"I'll remember that thank you," Lillian replied feeling somewhat relieved. "May I borrow something to wear for riding this afternoon?"

"Of course," Edith said. "I'll ring for my ladies maid."

Tom returned just in time for luncheon. After they were both changed and ready to go they headed down to the stables. Lillian had borrowed a pair of trousers, riding boots, jacket and hat from Edith. She didn't have a great deal of riding experience and there was no way she was going to ride sidesaddle. Tom had been quiet during luncheon and Lillian had noticed his hands shaking ever so slightly. He was obviously agitated. She had never seen him like this and she knew instinctively something was bothering him. She slid her hand into his as they walked in a reassuring gesture. She felt encouraged when his fingers curled around hers.

"It's fairly cool today," Tom said as they were heading out. "I thought we would take a route through the forest and some of the fields closer to the house and end up at the village."

"Whatever you think is best," Lillian replied. She smiled at him and was rewarded with a faint smile in return.

Tom started to relax on the ride and was closer to his usual self as he pointed out landmarks and different points of interest along the way. At one point he found himself admiring the site of Lillian's backside in the borrowed trousers. After an hour of meandering through the fields, Tom noticed Lillian shifting uncomfortably in the saddle.

"Are you ready for a break?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm afraid I haven't ridden much in the last few years. Not since I left school."

"Would you care to see the house where I was living until last fall? It's not far. We could stop there for a bit."

"That would be lovely," Lillian replied. "Why did you move out?"

Willowbrook House hadn't been rented, as Tom wasn't sure how long he and Sybil would be staying at the main house. It was almost the same size and sat just a few houses away from Crawley House where Isobel resided. Tom had planned to bring Lillian there all along. He had been over a few days before and brought wood up for the fireplace in the sitting room/office and taken the dust covers off the furniture in that room.

"The house was too big once my mother went back to Ireland and my brother married and moved out. I still use the office from time to time though for meetings. It isn't rented since Edith and John weren't sure if they would stay at the main house indefinitely either. It's one of the nicer houses in the village. Not as grand as the Dower House but still nice."

As they rode up to the house, Lillian was struck by how well the house would suit a family. There was a large garden around the side and back of the house. Even in the dead of winter the garden still had a charm to it and the view from the back of the house looked out across the fields and made her think of pictures in a story book when she was young. It wasn't a grand or elaborate house but it invited one in, as though it was waiting to welcome you. The thought struck her that it suited Tom perfectly.

"We'll stable the horses out back. There's an old carriage house there too, but I used it as a garage. Just give me a minute and I'll help you down," Tom said.

He dismounted then went around to help Lillian down from her horse. He reached up to take her by the waist. She placed her hands on his shoulders and allowed him to take her weight as she slid off the horse. Her body came against his as she slid down. Tom pulled her a little closer to steady her as her feet touched the ground. He stood there holding her for a long while with the horses shifting and bumping into them slightly. Lillian was staring back up at him equally transfixed.

"You think you could marry an Irish git, like me?" he said finally.

"I cou…ouch my leg," Lillian replied as a cramp assailed her calf. She would have fallen if Tom hadn't been holding her.

"What's the matter?" Tom said with his eyes wide in dismay and his mouth open slightly in surprise.

"My leg. It's cramping. Ow it just cramped again."

"I'd better get you inside."

Lillian just nodded as she hopped over to hold onto the wall while Tom penned the horses in the stable. She put an arm around his shoulders when he came back to her side and slid an arm around her waist. She half walked and hopped into the house and onto the sofa in the sitting room where Tom guided her.

"I'm sorry to be such a bother," Lillian said as her brow wrinkled in pain.

"You're no bother. It's my fault for keeping you on horseback so long when you're not used to it," Tom replied while sliding her boot off and rubbing the calf. He could feel the painful knot of muscles in her calf as he rubbed. _"So much for a stellar proposal," _he thought._ "You managed to get it out and gave her a leg cramp at the same time."_

"Musicians, you know," Lillian said trying to make light of the situation. "Too much time rehearsing and not enough time doing anything else."

"I'll put the fire on. It's rather cold in here," Tom said as he felt the cramp in Lillian's leg subside. He took off his helmet and gloves and put them to the side then went about lighting the fire. He pulled a blanket from a chest by the window and brought it back for her to wrap around her shoulders. _"She still hasn't answered,"_ he thought.

Lillian had taken off the hat Edith had loaned her. Her hair caught and pulled the two braids she had twisted into a knot at the back of her neck loose causing them to stick out at a crazy angle. Tom finally took a seat next to her on the sofa.

"Here let me do it," he said knocking Lillian's hands away while she was struggling to get the pins out of her hair where they were caught.

"Where did you learn to fix ladies hair?" she said as he wound her hair back up and pinned it.

"I do have a daughter and I haven't always employed a Nanny, you know," he said quietly as he pinned. "Well, how about it?" He had finished pinning her hair and pulled her leg onto his lap to massage the calf a little more. The fire was crackling in the hearth and the room was starting to warm.

"How about what?" Lillian replied.

"Marrying me. Will you?" he said not meeting her eyes.

"Tom, I would be…."

There was a loud bang at the back door followed by footsteps.

"Tommy boy, where the hell are ya? I saw the smoke and came over to see what's going on," Kieran exclaimed loudly from the hall. "I thought maybe you had enough of them toffs and might be moving back in."

"My brother," Tom groaned. "Kieran we're in here," he called.

Lillian removed her leg from Tom's lap and sat up straighter.

"Hello? Whose this?" Kieran questioned as he came through the door.

"Lillian Davis, my brother Kieran Branson," Tom introduced glaring at Kieran.

"How de do?" Keiran said with a twinkle in his eye. "So is this the girl you've been mooning over since Christmas?"

"For Christ's sake, Kieran," Tom shot back without thinking. Then immediately turned bright red. "What is it you wanted?"

"Lorna wants you and Sybil to come to dinner on Sunday after church. You can come along too if you like, Miss Davis."

"Thank you, but I have to return to London before then," Lillian replied.

"Too bad. Another time then. I best be off and let you two get to whatever it was you were doing," Kieran said with a wink.

"We were out for a ride and just taking a break," Tom said through gritted teeth.

"Oh, that's what you call it," Kieran replied on his way to the door. He turned back as he was about to go out of the room. "By the way, are you Catholic? Our Ma will want to know."

"Only on my mother's side," Lillian replied smoothly. "My mother's family is French Catholic."

"Kieran, don't you have somewhere you need to be?" Tom said through gritted teeth.

"I do. I'll see you later," Kieran said as he headed out the door. They heard the kitchen door bang shut a minute later.

Tom leaned back and put his hands over his face for a second and groaned.

"I'm sorry about that," he said as he sat back up. "He can be a tad outspoken at times. He means well though."

"Don't be sorry," Lillian replied. "Both of my brother's died in the war. I miss them a great deal."

"Where were we before we got interrupted?" Tom said. He knew darn well she was about to give him an answer.

"You were going to put another log on the fire and then you were going to sit here with me while I tell you the answer to your question and you answer one of mine," Lillian replied.

Tom got up to fix the fire. Then took off his riding jacket and placed it on the back of a chair before he rejoined Lillian on the sofa. She had taken her jacket off as well and unfolded the blanket.

He took his seat again and pulled her close as she snuggled against him and pulled the blanket over them. He took it as a good sign Lillian hadn't bolted out the door yet.

"Before we got interrupted, I was going to say, I would be honored to accept your proposal as long as you answer a question of mine."

"What is it?" Tom asked nervously. Hope had soared in his heart for a moment to be replaced by doubt.

"I want you to tell me why you want to marry me. The real reason, not something you think I want to hear," she said placing a hand on the side of his face and turning his head so he was looking directly at her.

"I…," he paused for a moment. "I want to marry you because I want someone to love and I'm sick of being alone."

"Was that really so hard to say?" she asked.

"No, not so difficult. You'll have me then?"

"Yes, very much yes."

"Oh thank god," Tom groaned out before he pulled her into his arms and kissed her for all he was worth. Tom's lips were warm and sensual coaxing her towards something more. Lillian felt his tongue slide between her lips and into her mouth stroking her tongue and the inside of her cheeks. She tentatively stroked his tongue with hers and heard him groan deep in his throat. As the kiss slowly ended, Tom slid his lips to the corner of her mouth.

"Tom," she managed to gasp as his lips traveled to the sensitive area just below her ear. "I don't want to do anything more than kiss until we're married."

"That's fine," he mumbled against her skin as his mouth moved back to a hair's breath from hers. "It's been a long time for me. I can wait." His kissed her again taking his time and exploring every recess of her mouth. His pulse jumped as he felt her fingers steal between two buttons on his shirt and stroke the hair on his chest. He slowly broke the kiss and reached for her hand drawing it to his mouth and kissing her fingers.

"When would you like to get married?" he asked.

"In June once the spring recitals are finished. I can't leave my students half way through their winter lessons."

"Mmm, you're going to make me wait that long?" he said leaning back against the sofa and pulling her close as her arms wrapped around his waist and her head lay on his shoulder.

"Not that long," Lillian replied. "Are you staunch Catholic?"

"Very," Tom replied. "Is that a problem?"

"No, technically I'm a protestant, but I've attended both depending on which set of grandparents I was visiting. I can attend either. If it's important to you then I'll attend the Catholic church."

They sat quietly for a few minutes just taking in the sensation of being together as an engaged couple.

"Why were you upset last night? You had me worried," Lillian asked.

"Because I realized how talented you are. I didn't think I was good enough."

"Not good enough? Why wouldn't you be good enough? You're better than good enough. My parents like you. You have a prestigious job. You're a good father and you're incredibly handsome. What else could I possibly want?"

"Someone who is more than a glorified farmer. Someone who can support your career."

"You're silly. I can teach music anywhere. Promise me you won't fret the next time something comes up. Just tell me."

"I can't promise not to fret."

"But you'll tell me?"

"I will," he said kissing her softly and running his fingers down her back.

"Mmm that feels nice," she murmured.

"We need to get back soon," Tom said reluctantly. "Come and I'll show you the rest of the house. We can choose a different one if you don't like it. You'll need your coat. It's a bit chilly in here."

Once they had looked around the downstairs, they found themselves at the bottom of the stairs.

"There's four bedrooms and a bath up there," Tom said.

Lillian blushed and looked down.

"Have you thought about how many children you'd like?" she asked.

Tom sighed.

"That's a hard one. I want however many come along, but…if we have any I don't want you having them at home," he said taking her hands. "They would have to be born in the hospital."

"I've always wanted to adopt one or two. Single women can't adopt you know."

"So I'm a means to an end?" Tom said in a teasing manner and drawing her close.

"A lot more than that," Lillian replied with a smile kissing him back as his lips touched hers.

"We've got to get back before it gets dark," Tom said finally. They left the house and rode back to the Abbey to tell Tom's daughter she would have a new stepmother in a few months and announce their engagement to the family. _"At least this time my future father-in-law won't try and buy me off,"_ Tom thought as they headed into the house and their life together.

_end of the section one_

_There are a series of additional stories published in sections at the end of this one. __I just am not into writing about SI and SII anymore. For me it is time to move on. The first story in the series uses s__ome Downton characters and a huge made up universe loosely based on the workhouse system that wasn't completely abolished until the 1960's even though The Poor Act was repealed in 1929. The stories together trace the lives of the characters through to the end of WWII. Tom, Kieran and young Sybil show up in all stories as well as many of the other standard Downton characters. Some of the stories are M rated. The are marked at the beginning of each story._


	21. All in One Day Part I

All in One Day Part I

Chapter 21 - Second Opinions

"_It has to be me. It has to be me,"_ Kieran Branson thought as he sat in the waiting room of the doctor's office at the village hospital. After three years of marriage there was no sign of a child. He had held his wife while she wept after every disappointment and reassured her they would have one when the time was right, but the announcement of a pregnancy had never come. The brim of his hat was crumpled into an odd shape before he reached for the non-existent package of cigarettes in his pocket. The door finally opened and a grief faced Lorna emerged. He put his arm around her and escorted her out of the building as quickly as he could.

"The news isn't good then?" Kieran asked.

Lorna collapsed against him sobbing, gripping the lapels of his jacket and shaking her head. He had to squeeze his eyes tight to keep the tears from escaping. For all he'd lead a wild life before he met his beautiful wife, all he wanted to do now was make her happy. He had done everything he could to that end, working on himself to improve his manners and grooming and bending over backwards to please her. It had all been worth it to see the look of love in her eyes and spend his days and nights with her.

"We'll have a family yet," he soothed. "If we can't have one of our own, we'll get one another way. Isn't that wife of Tom's always talking about children who need loving families?"

"I don't want a baby of someone else's," Lorna sobbed. "I want one of my own."

"Of course you do," Kieran crooned. "Let's go home and we can talk about it."

Lorna had cried the rest of the afternoon and most of the night. All Kieran could do was to hold her while she cried herself to sleep. They had a lot to offer a child, he thought. He had a successful business and a considerable pile of savings. They went to church as regular as clockwork. Any child of theirs would go to school and not have to miss days to go working for a few pennies to make ends meet for the family the way he had. The most important of all they could offer love in abundance. Children were easy to love. He loved his niece Sybil and her younger brother Ronan with all his heart. He would love one of his own even more.

A few days later Lorna was starting to get over her grief. She would smile from time to time and kissed him when he brought her a perfect rose from Old Mr. Mosley's garden.

"I think we should go talk to that wife of Tom's about finding us a little boy," Kieran began.

"Kieran, I don't think," Lorna started.

"Now hear me out, love," he replied. "We can hope and pray for one of our own but it's not in the cards we've been dealt. We can offer a child love and a good home with two parents. Maybe a little boy from back home, around four or five, old enough not to be in nappies and young enough he could learn our ways. Think on it a bit."

"I'll think about it," Lorna said going to her husband for a hug. She needed to feel his warmth close to her in that moment. _"Kieran is a good husband who just wants to make me happy,"_ she thought. _"He is my bad boy with a heart of gold." _She reached up and stroked his hair and cheek. "You're so good to me," she whispered.

"Don't spread it around. I wouldn't want to get a reputation," Kieran teased. He used humor regularly to cover his emotions. He pulled her close and rested his cheek on her hair for a moment. "I do love you," he said before she kissed him softly on the mouth.

-0-

Tom was sitting in his office that doubled as a sitting room with eleven-month-old son Ronan crawling around on a blanket on the floor. It was late afternoon on a late fall day and he had stacks of paperwork to review from the summer season. His wife Lillian was busy changing the linens and tidying up the baby's room. He could hear the faint sounds of his just turned six-year-old daughter Sybil practicing her scales on the piano that had been installed in the drawing room just before his marriage to Lillian.

He scooped Ronan off the floor and carried him in his arms to answer the knock at the door. Tom was just in time to head off his daughter, as she was about to open the door.

"Sybil, I've told you over and over not to answer the door on your own," Tom scolded.

"But Daddy, it's Uncle Kieran and Aunt Lorna. I saw them coming up the walk."

"Be that as it may, you've still gone against what you've been told."

"Yes Daddy," Sybil replied properly chastised and looking down.

"When you've finished practicing your music you can come through and say hello."

"I'm done now."

"No, you have another ten minutes. When the clock strikes the hour you'll be done."

"Yes Daddy," Sybil said. She knew better than to lip her father back. She turned and went back into the drawing room.

Tom opened the door to see his brother and his sister-in-law on the step.

"Kieran, Lorna we weren't expecting you."

"No, we thought we'd stop by and talk to Lillian. Is she about?" Kieran asked.

"Go through to the sitting room," Tom said. "I'll call her."

Tom walked to the drawing room door and pushed it open almost knocking Sybil on her bottom from her vantage point where she had her ear pressed to the door.

"I don't hear any practicing," Tom said. "You'll practice an extra ten minutes now for disobeying me."

Sybil didn't say anything just turned and went to the piano and started practicing again. Tom shook his head. His daughter was a bit of a character and needed a firm hand. At the same time she was as cute as a button and could wind her grandfather and all of her uncles around her little finger. She adored her stepmother. One word from Lillian would send Sybil into the depths of despair or the heights of happiness. Tom thanked his lucky stars many times his second wife had a soft heart and endless patience when it came to dealing with his daughter.

He called his wife and went through to join his brother and Lorna in the sitting room after stopping by the kitchen to ask their housekeeper to make some tea. They had originally decided to make do with a live in housekeeper who also helped out with Sybil and someone who came in once a week to do the laundry. Lillian was used to doing chores around the house and had wanted to take care of Sybil herself without the aid of a Nanny when she wasn't teaching music. She had realized quickly how difficult it was to juggle her music career with taking care of a family. After Ronan was born they had hired a local girl to come in through the day to take care of the children while Lillian was rehearsing or teaching.

Sybil was old enough now she joined Alice and Peter at the Abbey weekdays for tutoring and riding lessons. The children all spent a half-day a week at Willowbrook House for music and art lessons. Next fall Peter and Alice would start school in Ripon and Tom and Lillian would have to make other arrangements for Sybil's education. Freddie, Matthew and Mary's son wasn't old enough for tutoring and his parents hadn't yet made up there mind if he would go to boarding school or be tutored when he turned six. For now things were working out well and their lives were occupied with family and work.

"Kieran, Lorna, how nice to see you," Lillian said as she came into the sitting room.

"I hope we're not interrupting," Lorna said.

"We've come for some advice," Kieran added.

"Ask away," Tom replied.

Kieran reached over and grasped his wife's hand.

"We've decided we'd like to adopt a little boy, preferably from Ireland. We were wondering if you could look into it for us," Kieran asked Lillian.

"I'd be happy to make some inquiries," Lillian replied. "There are so many in the orphanages and workhouses. They come from every walk of life. People think they are all children from the poorest families or street urchins but that isn't true. The conditions in the workhouses might shock you. I just want you to be prepared. It would be easier to adopt from the north as it part of the United Kingdom."

"North or south doesn't matter as long as he's Irish," Kieran said.

"He'd have to be from a catholic family," Lorna said hopefully. "We thought a child of around four or five. Hopefully one that resembles Kieran a bit so he wouldn't feel out of place."

"I teach day after tomorrow through the day in Ripon," Lillian replied. "I'll stop by the orphanage there and make some inquiries. I'll let you know what I find out. It would mean a trip over to go and get a child. It's best to go in person."

"That's fine," Kieran said giving his wife a smile of encouragement. "We'll do what it takes."

Kieran reached down and scooped his nephew up onto his lap when Ronan had crawled over and promptly tried stuffing the end of his uncle's shoelace into his mouth.

"Whatever it takes," Kieran said softly.

-0-

"I wish it wasn't just you and Kieran going," Tom said to Lillian two weeks later.

"Tom, don't worry. I'll be safe enough with Kieran. Lorna's mother couldn't help getting sick," Lillian replied. "We're just going to an orphanage. There's no danger."

"I know, I can't help but worry," her husband replied.

Lillian sighed as she snuggled down in bed and curled herself against her husband of two years. _"He's such a worrier, but you knew that when you married him,"_ she told herself. When she had been pregnant with their son, Tom had worried and clucked to the point where he almost drove her mad. She had finally agreed to go for checkups with the doctor every three weeks instead of every two months. Lillian had put her foot down at the idea of going to London to have the baby and insisted on the village hospital. Tom had sat by her bedside all night and watched her sleep after the birth. His concern and attention had told her in actions rather than words how strongly he still felt the loss of his first wife and the level of love and commitment he had made to her and their family together.

"I just wish we weren't going to a workhouse to find a child for them. From what I understand the children from Belfast are mostly sent to Australia," Lillian commented. "It's part of the child immigration. They pack them up and ship them off like cattle never to be seen or heard from again."

"Sweetheart, I know how much you hate those places…"

"The entire thing is wrong. The whole workhouse system and they way they are sent overseas. Half the time no one ever goes to check on the children once they are placed. Some find good homes, but others are worked almost to death. They run away rather than stay where they are assigned. It's no way to treat a child."

"You can't save them all, love," Tom said stroking her arm and curling her hand into his.

"I know," Lillian replied despondently.

"I was thinking, if you found one you just couldn't leave behind perhaps you might like to bring them home with you."

"Oh Tom, thank you," Lillian replied with surprise. "You know how much I've always wanted to adopt. For all the letters and campaigning against the system and fund raising for searching for surviving family, I still feel like I'm doing nothing."

"We have more than enough room. We can afford it."

"Where will they go to school? What age? Do you want a boy or girl?"

"Oh Darlin' it's all details. I can love either one. Chose one you think is right for our family," Tom replied with a soft laugh. "I just wish I could go with you."

"Someday you'll be able to go back to Ireland."

"Perhaps, just keep an eye on Kieran. You never know what he might take a notion to do."

"You're brother isn't that bad!"

Tom just chuckled as he pulled her closer.

* * *

Chapter 22 – A Gap Toothed Smile

"Everything seems to be in order, Mr. Branson," the woman sitting behind the desk at the workhouse in Belfast said. "You have an auto repair garage in Yorkshire?"

"Yes, that's right."

"Is this your wife?" The woman gave Kieran a sour look. Lillian was considerably younger than Kieran.

"No, this is my sister-in-law. My wife's mother was taken ill at the last minute. She had to stay home to take care of her mother and give her Da a hand."

"I see," the woman said. "I assume you want a little boy to act as apprentice?"

"No. We want a little boy who'll be our son. Once he's older I'll teach him a thing or two about motorcars."

Kieran had been having a sense of dread ever since they had walked up to the door of the brick structure. He couldn't imagine what a child would feel coming to this place. It resembled a prison more than a place for children. There weren't any children playing outside when they had arrived unlike the village school at lunchtime and he hadn't seen a ball or a jump rope about the place. _"My childhood was hard,"_ he thought, _"but this is well beyond that."_

"One final question before you meet the boys," the woman asked. "Why did you come all the way to Belfast when there are children available closer to home?"

"My wife is from Amagh originally. I'm from Dublin. We wanted an Irish child, Catholic preferably so it wouldn't be too obvious he wasn't our own."

"Very well then, if you'll follow me."

Lillian rose and followed Kieran out the door. She knew enough about what was going on in the system to expect the worst but the bleak reality of the workhouse was still hard to bear. She had spent a great deal of time volunteering at an orphanage in London and now one in Ripon, but they were smaller well run establishments that tried their best to provide for the children and locate surviving relatives. This was a step above human slavery and it made her feel ill.

They stopped by a classroom and waited in the hall while the woman, a Mrs. O'Hogan went in. About twenty-five little boys all aged five filed out and stood in two lines in the hallway.

"You may select from these boys," Mrs. O'Hogan informed Kieran.

Kieran caught himself before his jaw dropped.

"And how does she propose I do that?" he grumbled to Lillian under his breath. "I'm not shopping for a puppy."

"It's all the same to her," Lillian whispered back. "Just take a look, if you see one you like talk to him for a few minutes."

Kieran slowly walked along the first row of boys. Some of the boys stared up at him with large round frightened eyes. Others looked down at their feet. In the second row he stopped at one boy. He had blue eyes and brown hair that had been cut badly and stuck out at an odd angle. He had a dimple in one cheek with a smattering of freckles across his nose and looked like he was about to cry.

"What's your name?" Kieran asked kneeling down on one knee in front of the child.

"Brody, Sir," the little boy said looking at the floor. Kieran noticed his one front tooth had fallen out and the other wasn't far behind.

"Do you like motor cars?" Kieran asked him. He had no idea what you asked a child when they may be your prospective son. The child reminded him of his brother when they were young.

The only answer was a head nod.

"I can't guarantee he is Catholic," Mrs. O'Hogan said while standing beside Kieran. "This one was abandoned in a church."

"Was it a Catholic church?" Kieran asked.

"I believe so," Mrs. O'Hogan replied pursing her lips.

"Close enough then," Kieran said. The way these children were being treated and the entire experience was making him slightly nauseous. All he wanted was to conclude his business and get out of there.

Mrs. O'Hogan marched forward and grabbed Brody by the hand. "The rest of you can go back to class," she instructed. Kieran and Lillian had no choice but to follow her back to the office. She marched into her office stuck Brody on a chair on the side and went to a filing cabinet and pulled out a folder.

She pulled out some papers and began to fill them out while Lillian and Kieran retook their seats.

"These papers state you agree to provide a home and education for the boy until he reaches the age of sixteen," she informed them.

"Now hold your horses," Kieran said. "I want the boy to have my name with everything done legal. My wife wouldn't like it any other way."

"Very well," Mrs. O'Hogan said looking somewhat annoyed for having wasted her time on the first set of papers. She pulled out another set out of a drawer and began filling them out. "Sign here," she said. "The papers will go to the judge tomorrow. You will receive confirmation of the adoption and name change in the post in approximately six weeks."

"And that's it?" Kieran asked in shock as he signed the document.

"Was there anything else you required, Mr. Branson?" Mrs. O'Hogan asked.

"Perhaps you could tell us anything you know about Brody," Lillian ventured.

"Abandoned in a church one year ago with two younger siblings," Mrs. O'Hogan read. "The police tracked the family to one of the poorer neighborhoods. Both parents deceased, the only surviving relative was a grandmother who died six months after the children were surrendered."

Kieran looked at Brody to see tears running down his cheeks and him wiping his nose on his sleeve.

"Here now, here's a handkerchief for that," Kieran said as he went to the little boy who was now his son or would be when the judge had signed the order. He wiped his face and held the cloth while the boy blew his nose. Kieran looked at him for a long few minutes before he stood back up drawing Brody over to stand beside his chair. Kieran sat down again.

"You still got the other two?" Kieran asked.

"I'd have to check the records," Mrs. O'Hogan replied.

Brody was standing by the back of Kieran's chair. His fingers were gripping the back with his knuckles turning white.

"A boy four and a girl approximately two and a half."

"You best let me have a look at them as well," Kieran said.

"Both of the other children are scheduled to leave for Australia in a few days," Mrs. O'Hogan replied once she had found them in her records. "This is highly irregular Mr. Branson."

"Still it won't hurt to let me take a look and you can't tell me you haven't got another two to send along in their place if I decide to take them home as well," Kieran said.

"Very well, Mr. Branson, please wait here," Mrs. O'Hogan replied. She got up and went out to make the arrangements to have the children brought to the office.

"Kieran. Three children? What is Lorna going to say?" Lillian questioned.

"She'd say the same as me. I can't take one and leave his brother and sister behind. Lorna wouldn't like it," Kieran said stubbornly. "Besides it can't hurt to have a look."

Brody's knees had started to shake. Kieran turned and patted his hand.

"Nothing to worry about," he told the boy. "When we get home you'll have a Ma and me for a Da. Your new Gran and Grandad live in the same village and this nice lady is your new Aunt Lillian. There's cousins at home too."

Brody's arms flew around Kieran's neck and he started crying.

"There, there now," Kieran comforted while patting his back. "You go to your Aunt Lillian while I make arrangements for your brother and sister."

Brody nodded and went to Lillian to have his tears wiped.

They didn't have long to wait. Mrs. O'Hogan returned with the other two children. The little boy and their sister both ran to Brody and clung to him when they saw him.

Brody whispered something to the other two. They both turned around and stared at Kieran. The little girl pulled back to hide behind her brother slightly.

"And what's your name?" Kieran asked the other boy.

"Declan," came the answer in a very small voice.

"And this one?" Kieran asked looking at the little girl.

Brody came forward to whisper in Kieran's ear. "Her name is Honor. She's frightened because the constable that brought us here had a caterpillar on his face too."

"Honor is it. Well, it's a great pleasure to meet you and you don't worry about a thing. That caterpillar will be gone as soon as we get back to the hotel."

Honor shrunk behind her brothers a little more.

"I'll take 'em," Kieran informed Mrs. O'Hogan. "Get the papers ready."

"Very well, Mr. Branson, I'll just be a minute," Mrs. O'Hogan said while she started filling out two more sets of paper work.

Once Kieran had signed the papers he turned to the children he had just adopted.

"Your last name's Branson now or will be when the judge says so. I expect you to mind your manners and say your prayers and be kind to your new Ma when you meet her."

He got nods from the two boys but Honor was still hiding.

Mrs. O'Hogan got up from her desk to show them out.

"Not so fast," Kieran said suddenly, still looking at the three children. Mrs. O'Hogan stopped and looked worried. It wouldn't be the first time someone had changed their mind before they made it out her office door.

"What have you got in an older boy? One say eleven or twelve years old, a bright lad that could help out at the garage after school or with this lot."

"Mr. Branson are you quite sure?" Mrs. O'Hogan asked. Lillian looked at Kieran questioningly.

"The Irish are known for large families," Kieran replied. "Who am I to go against tradition. Besides an even number seems like a good idea. An entire family in one step."

"Kieran, are you quite sure?" Lillian asked him once Mrs. O'Hogan had left the room.

"I'll take as many as I can from this hell hole," he replied with a serious expression. "I don't think I can afford more than four though. The older one can help out at the garage. I won't have to pay that boy to pump gas after school like I was. It will all work out."

"A true optimist, like your brother," Lillian replied before she turned back to the three children they would be taking back with them. Honor was still clinging in fear to her brother's. _"Our first stop will be a mercantile for some clothes,"_ Lillian thought. _"I hope Kieran knows what he's getting himself into. Tom said bring back one. How am I ever going to chose?"_

* * *

Chapter 23 – A Kindred Spirit

They had been waiting about twenty minutes out in the hallway when Mrs. O'Hogan came to speak with them.

"There are three boys who fit the description you gave Mr. Branson. You may interview them individually in my office."

"Thank you kindly," Kieran answered. "Lillian do you mind waiting her and keeping an eye on these three."

"Of course," Lillian replied. Honor had finally allowed Lillian to hold her on her lap, but still wouldn't go anywhere near Kieran.

Three boys came and sat on the bench across from Lillian and the children. Two of them had resigned looks the third had a surly expression that didn't appeal to Lillian one bit.

After a few minutes the door opened and the first boy was called in. It wasn't long when Kieran came to the door and motioned Lillian to join him.

"Brody you mind your brother and sister while Aunt Lillian and I have a word with Liam here," Keiran said.

"Yes, Sir," Brody answered.

"That's my boy and it's yes Da not Sir."

"Yes, Da," Brody corrected.

Lillian went into the office to see a boy of about twelve looking hopeful and nervous.

"Liam here tells me his Da was a doctor. His Ma played the violin," Kieran related.

"Both your parents have passed away?" Lillian questioned him. She knew some of the children in these places had been forcibly removed from their parents and little effort was made to find surviving relatives in many cases.

"Yes, Miss, they both died a few months apart from galloping consumption."

"No relatives?"

"None, Miss."

"You tell her what you told me about the violin," Kieran said.

"I was learning to play a little before…you know," Liam said.

"Do you still have your mother's violin?" Lillian asked.

"These things are not allowed here," Mrs. O'Hogan interjected. "It's in storage."

"Could I trouble you to bring it?" Lillian inquired of Mrs. O'Hogan.

Mrs. O'Hogan shook her head in disgust. She had no idea what a young woman from obviously a better family was doing here with a rough Irishman and making such an odd request, but if she could shuffle another one out the door in an afternoon, so much the better.

"Do you do well in school?" Lillian inquired of Liam while they waited for Mrs. O'Hogan.

"I did until I came here," Liam replied looking a bit ashamed. "They only care if you can read and write. I haven't been to school since I got here."

Mrs. O'Hogan came back quickly and laid the violin case on her desk. Lillian noticed the longing in Liam's eyes right away, but he didn't make a move towards the case. Lillian removed her gloves, opened the case and took out the violin. It was definitely a well-played instrument without a scratch on it. Liam's mother had certainly taken good care of it. She tuned the strings and held the violin out to Liam. Her training had consisted of more than one instrument until she had chosen piano as her main focus.

"Play whatever you remember," Lillian said. She watched him carefully as he picked up the bow and began to play the beginning of a Sonata.

"That's all I remember," he said.

"May I?" Lillian said approaching him and changing is hold on the bow slightly before instructing him to play again.

"Do you feel the difference?" Lillian asked him.

"I do. It was much easier the second time," Liam replied.

"My husband is Mr. Branson's brother," Lillian said. "We have a daughter aged six and a little boy just under a year. Do you think you can get along in a house with two younger siblings?"

Liam nodded vigorously.

"You'll have daily music lessons and a tutor to catch up the school you have missed," Lillian continued. "My husband has a respected position in the community so your behavior will have to be exemplary."

Liam's mouth dropped open in shock.

"Is all of this agreeable to you?" Lillian inquired.

"Yes, Miss," Liam replied.

"You may call me Lillian," she said. "You're a bit too old to be calling me Mama right away like the other children do and Mrs. Branson is much too formal. Now take your violin and you can wait with the other children in the hall. Could you keep an eye on Brody, Declan and Honor while Mr. Branson and I speak to the next boy and I make arrangements for your adoption with Mrs. O'Hogan?"

"Yes, thank you, Miss…Lillian," he said. The hope was shinning in his eyes as he gathered the violin and headed out into the hall.

"I don't like one of the boys out there," Lillian whispered to Kieran while Mrs. O'Hogan was filling out the papers for Liam. "She thinks you're an easy mark and is trying to push a problem off on you."

Kieran and Lillian interviewed the next two boys. The one boy was quiet and had been on an apprenticeship as a welder's helper but had been returned to the workhouse when a strike hit the area and the business he was at dried up. The second boy they interviewed had a cocky attitude and had obviously spent time on the streets.

"I'd like to talk to the first one again," Kieran said. "Alone."

Lillian went back out to sit with the four children who were already leaving with them while Kieran talked to Quinlan on his own for a bit. After fifteen minutes or so the door opened and Kieran walked out with his hand on Quinlan's shoulder. Kieran looked a bit pale and his mouth was set.

"You sit here and meet your new brothers and sister while I fix things with that Mrs. O'Hogan," Kieran said through tight lips.

Lillian got up to speak to Kieran.

"Kieran, what's wrong?" she asked.

Kieran took her to the side.

"That boy has scars on his arms from his last apprenticeship. The bastard burned him deliberately. I'd like to get a hold of whoever it was and give him a little pay back."

"Kieran, you'll change his life. He'll be safe with you and Lorna."

"I just want to sign the papers and get the hell out of here," Kieran growled. "Sorry for the language."

"I do feel like I've been through the wringer myself," Lillian said. She glanced at the children sitting huddled together on the bench. The younger ones were visibly worn out from the stress. "We'll get them back to the hotel. I can come back later to finish up my business here."

Kieran nodded before he strode off down the hall to ask the secretary at the desk to locate Mrs. O'Hogan.

It was a tattered looking group that arrived back at the hotel well after lunchtime. Kieran was carrying Brody, while Liam carried Declan. Honor had latched on to Quinlan like she would never let go.

"We need to get some lunch into them," Lillian said as they made it back to Kieran's room.

"Right," Kieran said. He pulled a few bills out of his pocket and handed them to the older two boys. "You two go down the street to the bakeshop and get some meat pies and maybe a bun and some milk for the little ones. We'll wait here for you."

Liam and Quinlan stared at the money then back at Kieran.

"Well, look smart, everyone's hungry. We need your help with the little ones."

Liam was the first to smile and pulled Quinlan out the door behind him.

"Kieran do you think that was such a good idea?"

"They have to learn to trust us," Kieran replied. "We have to trust them as well. We might as well start now." He went over and helped the two boys pull off their shoes and laid them on the bed pulling the blanket up over them. They were both nodding off before they had made it back to the room. "Poor little buggers," he muttered. Honor shied away from him the second he approached. "Oh, I almost forgot," he said. "I'll be right back."

Lillian got Honor settled on the opposite end of the bed while Kieran was in the washroom. When he returned she was surprised by how much more he resembled his younger brother without the mustache.

"You think Lorna will recognize me?" he asked.

"Probably not when you show up with four children when she was expecting one," Lillian replied. "But I can see why. I need to go back. Tom said just one, but I can't leave tonight on the ferry without seeing if there is another child that would be right for us."

There was a knock on the door. Liam and Quinlan were back with a box from the bakeshop and two bottles of milk. The desk clerk was with them. They were rather a ragged looking pair.

"These two said they were with you, Mr. Branson, I thought it best to come up and check."

"This one's my son and the taller one is my nephew. We just brought them from the foundling home over next to the hospital. You needn't bother yourself with them," Kieran replied. "We'll be leaving on the late ferry for home."

The two boys looked relieved as they entered the room and set down the packages.

"Don't you think we should wait until morning to travel?" Lillian asked.

"The sooner I put some distance between my children and that place the better I'll feel," Kieran replied. Quinlan's eyes widened at his new father's statement. "If I never see Belfast again it will be soon enough." He looked at the two boys. "Well, boys tuck in, just make sure there's some left for the little ones."

Once they'd had their lunch and the boys had been sent to wash their face and hands. Lillian got up to leave.

"I'm going back. I just can't leave without seeing if there is another child for our family. Liam you stay here and help your Uncle Kieran with the younger ones when they wake up."

"Yes, Miss … Lillian," he replied.

Once Lillian had left Kieran looked at the two boys. "Now how about you two give me a hand getting the little ones up and fed. Then we'll go get some new clothes and baths for the lot of you before we catch the ferry."

"Yes, Sir," they both replied.

"Enough of that," Kieran said. "Da to you, and Uncle Kieran to you. You sound like one of those damn butlers at my brother's relations." Kieran paused for a moment and looked at Liam. "Just wait till you see what Lillian and my brother have in store for you," he said with a laugh. "You won't believe it. You my boy just swallowed your lucky horseshoe. Now come on and help me wake those three up. They look like they could sleep for a week."

* * *

Chapter 24 – Forgetting the Details

"Can you see the train yet Daddy?" Sybil asked standing on tip toes and stretching herself as far as she could off the platform.

"Not yet," Tom replied. "There'll be here soon enough."

"I hope Mama brings someone home for me to play with," Sybil said excitedly.

Lorna and her father were waiting with them. Lorna's mother was feeling better from her bought with the stomach flu but still wasn't up and about.

"Don't be disappointed if she doesn't bring anyone," Tom replied. He turned to speak to Lorna and her father for a few minutes while Sybil made a game of jumping over the cracks between the boards on the station platform. It was Sunday afternoon. Ronan was at home with the housekeeper. Tom had walked Sybil over to the station in hopes of burning off some of her energy but so far the tactic hadn't worked.

The train pulled in with clouds of steam billowing from the engine. Sybil jumped up and down trying to look in the windows.

"I don't see Mama or Uncle Kieran anywhere," she declared as people started to disembark.

"That's because your Uncle Kieran is standing right in front of you," Kieran said with a chuckle.

"Kieran, you shaved!" Lorna exclaimed. Her mouth dropped open in shock. Kieran was standing there with a little girl in one arm with his case in the other hand. There was a boy standing beside him holding onto the hem of his suit jacket. Another older boy was beside him holding another small boy and beside him was another older boy holding a baby in his arms and a violin case dangling from one hand. All of them except for the one with the violin were wearing new clothes that looked like they came from a mercantile. "Kieran what did you do!"

Everyone looked at Kieran in dismay with the pack of six children. Even Sybil for once was speechless.

"Oh don't fret, only these four are ours. The one with violin and the baby are Tom's.

Tom was still standing there completely flabbergasted.

"You're wife's still on the train, Tom. She's a tad motion sick, she had a bit of a rough crossing."

"Kieran, four children!" Lorna finally managed to say.

"I couldn't leave them there, besides we always talked about having four. We're just having them all in one day that's all. This here's Quinlan, Honor, Declan and Brody. This is your new Ma and your new Grandad and that one's your Uncle Tom."

"Hello," Quinlan said shyly. Honor was busy poking Kieran's lip with her finger. She hid her face the second she saw Mr. Clarke's mustache. "Don't worry Honor, Grandad will make the caterpillar go away too," Kieran said patting her back.

Lorna shook her head and looked at her husband standing there with the group of children. Finally she moved forward and kissed him.

"You know you're almost as pretty as your brother without the moustache," she said.

"I thought I was prettier," Kieran said laughing. Honor had turned to look at Lorna before she hid her face again. "She's a bit shy. Brody and Declan are her natural brothers. Once I picked out Brody, I couldn't leave the other two, then Quinlan just sort of happened."

"What am I going to do with you?" Lorna said shaking her head and smiling.

"I can think of a few things once the children are asleep," Kieran whispered in her ear.

Mr. Clarke came over and took Kieran's suitcase.

"Four grandchildren at once. Wait until mother finds out. She's been wanting grand babies for years," Mr. Clarke said.

"They're not such babies. Not a nappy in the lot," Kieran exclaimed with a laugh. "We'll see you later Tommy Boy."

Kieran's new family headed off with Declan holding his new grandfather's hand on one side and Quinlan on the other. Brody was between Lorna and Kieran and smiling up at Lorna with a toothless grin. Honor was still wrapped around Kieran's neck holding the doll he had bought her.

Tom was slowly recovering from the shock. He turned back to the train to see Lillian stepping down carrying another baby.

"I'm Sybil, what's your name?" Sybil asked Liam.

"Liam. I'm your new brother I guess. This is Aideen and the other one is Branna. They're twins."

"They're awfully little," Sybil replied.

"The girls are only two months old. They're identical," Lillian said gently. "Tom, I hoped you're not too shocked. I know you only said one, but I just couldn't…"

"I'm a little surprised. If I'd known you were bringing so many I would have brought the pram," Tom said breaking out in a grin before he kissed Lillian hello. "It's all fine." He turned to Liam, took the violin case and handed it to Sybil then shook the boy's hand as best he could since he was holding a baby. "I'm your new father you can call me Da or Tom which ever you prefer. You best give me my new daughter then go see to your Ma's bags."

"I'm going to come and help," Sybil announced.

Liam gave Tom a small nervous half smile as he handed over the baby and went to get Lillian's bag with Sybil chattering up a storm behind him.

"I see he plays the violin," Tom said to Lillian as he held the newest addition to his family and looked down into the baby's face.

"Liam's a nice boy, Tom, from a good family. He had a hard time after he lost his parents."

Liam reappeared carrying Lillian's bag. Sybil had the violin case handle firmly in both hands and was right behind him. They walked back to the house with Sybil chattering up a storm to Liam the entire way.

"You can come to school with me. I go to a tutor at Grandpapa's house most days except the day we have music at our house, then I go in the afternoon and we have riding lessons at Grandpapa's. There are lots of horses. You can pick one too. Daddy has a motorcycle, but no one is allowed to sit on it. That's Great Grandmama's house over there," Sybil said pointing to the Dower House.

Liam stopped and stared with his mouth open and his eyes round.

"Don't worry," Tom said with a reassuring smile when he saw what Liam was staring at. "The one who lives there is a bit imposing but you'll get used to her. Her bark is definitely worse than her bite."

"That's Aunty Lorna's cheese shop over there and that's Uncle Kieran's garage and that's their house over the grocers," Sybil continued pointing to landmarks along the way. "And this is our house. Which bedroom are you going to have?"

"We'll figure that out when we get in the door, Sybil," Lillian said.

"Do you like cheese? Uncle Kieran always has lots of cheese at his house. Wait till you come to the Abbey. I can introduce you to everyone who works there. We used to live there before Daddy married my new Mama. It's lots of fun. You're going to like it here," Sybil said as they walked through the door and she finally ran out of breath.

"Coat, hat and gloves, Sybil then put Liam's violin in the drawing room and get washed up for dinner," Tom instructed.

"Yes, Daddy," Sybil said before she ran off.

"Welcome to your new home Liam," Tom said turning to Liam. The boy slowly set the case down and looked around the hall in awe. The tears were running down his cheeks unchecked.

Lillian looked at Tom in alarm.

Tom laid Aideen in an armchair before he turned back to Liam.

"What's the matter, Son?" Tom asked gently.

"I didn't think, I'd have parents or a home or a school, ever again," he said.

"Well you do now," Tom said. "We'll go upstairs and pick out a room for you." He turned to see the housekeeper and Lillian clucking over the babies. "We're are your extra clothes?"

"I don't have any," Liam said blushing in embarrassment. "Lillian said we could go shopping when we got here."

"Did she now. Good thing I've had a little practice this last few years. You can wear a pair of my pajamas tonight. They'll be a trifle big." They climbed the stairs. "Now how about this room? It looks out on the back garden. The room my son, Ronan is in is a bit bigger, but we'll be putting the babies in there I expect."

Liam nodded.

"You can wash you're hands across the hall," Tom started to say when they were interrupted by Lillian dashing into the washroom and loosing the contents of her stomach into the toilet. "You can meet your younger brother when he wakes up from his nap," Tom called back over his shoulder as he went to see to his wife.

"Motion sick?" Tom asked as he handed Lillian a washcloth to wipe her face.

Lillian nodded.

"It will settle once we have dinner and I get some rest," she replied finally.

"Three babies all under one year under the same roof," Tom said leaning against the sink. "I can understand the older one but why the two little ones?"

"I'm sorry. I didn't even think. That place was so horrible. Kieran went kind of crazy and started picking out children left and right. I saw the babies laying there and twins are almost impossible to adopt out together and identical twins are even worse. I… well, I."

"Don't apologize," Tom replied helping Lillian to her feet and steadying her. "We've got enough love for all of them. Just not enough prams."

"I sort of forgot the details," Lillian replied mournfully once she had rinsed her mouth out. "At least we don't have to pay for music lessons," she added with a sheepish grin.

"Or baby clothes. There's a big enough pile of hand me downs from Mary's two to outfit an army of babies," Tom said laughing a bit at their predicament and pulling her into his arms for a quick hug. "I missed you something terrible. Now cheer up and we'll go get the children settled in and figure out how we're going to juggle three babies and where we're going to put them all."

"Dresser drawers lined with blankets for tonight I suppose," Lillian said moving out the door holding Tom's hand. "My parents are going to faint when they find out we have five children."

"I can hardly wait to hear what the Crawleys have to say," Tom commented rolling his eyes then grinning on his way downstairs to get acquainted with his new children.

* * *

Chapter 25 – Sorting it All Out

Tom hadn't had much sleep the first night with the new children. Lillian was still feeling a bit queasy and went to bed early. Liam slept like he was dead, but having three infants in one room was enough to drive Tom to distraction. As soon as he got one changed and fed the other was awake. To make matters worse he couldn't tell the two little girls apart. Ronan had slept through the majority of the commotion but by six a.m. all three babies were up and looking to be fed. Sybil was up as well and couldn't wait for Liam to get up.

"Can Liam come for lessons with me today?" Sybil asked. "I want to introduce him to everyone at Grandpapa's house."

"I think we'll get Liam settled today while you're at lessons," Lillian replied. "But you may go wake him up and ask him to get dressed for breakfast."

"I can do that," Sybil said dashing out of the babies' room.

"Any plan for all this?" Tom asked his wife with a tired smile. He was sitting in the armchair feeding one of the babies with a bottle while she was busy getting their son dressed.

"I don't teach again until tomorrow. I cancelled today's lessons before I left," Lillian replied. "I thought I'd check with a few of the relatives to see if they had any hand me down clothes in Liam's size and arrange for the Nanny to come full days from now on or maybe move in."

"I'll take him into Ripon this afternoon," Tom said. "I don't want him going near that bunch at the main house until he's had a decent hair cut and a new set of clothes to wear. I'll make arrangements for Liam to join tutoring tomorrow as well. They might still have Lord Grantham's riding gear from when he was a young boy. I'll get Bates to do it. I won't let Mosely near him." Tom grimaced at the thought. " And I'll see what I can find for used cribs."

After Tom dropped Sybil off at the Abbey for lessons and he had told Lord and Lady Grantham the news of his expanded family he headed down to the village to see how his brother was getting on before he went off on his various tasks of the morning. Tom found Kieran at the garage looking a bit worse for wear.

"So how's the new family," Tom greeted Kieran who was bent over an engine.

"Exhausting," Kieran replied. "Two nightmares, one peed the bed and Honor won't stop clinging to me. I could barely get my dinner in my mouth last night."

"Where did you put all of them?" Tom questioned. Kieran's flat wasn't very big. As far as Tom knew there was a spare room but that was it.

"Three little ones in the same bed and the big one on the sofa. You think you can find us a cottage?" Kieran asked straightening up and closing the bonnet.

"I'll check my list and let you know which ones are available later today," Tom replied. He waited a minute while Kieran switched the car on and started the motor. He moved the car out of the garage and brought another one in.

"Lillian said you went a little crazy at the workhouse," Tom said.

"Christ Tom, you wouldn't have believed it," Kieran replied setting down the board with the work order on it and turning to face his brother. "The old bat showed us a group of twenty kids or so and told me to pick one like I was picking an piglet from a litter. Our childhood was rough at times and things were tight, but that was." Kieran just shook his head. "So how did things go with you?"

"The babies cried off and on all night and the older one slept like a rock. He'll start lessons tomorrow. I best be off and earn my keep. I'll let you know after lunch about the cottage."

"Right-o," Kieran replied as he went back to work.

At lunchtime Kieran closed up as was his usual habit and headed back to the flat to see how things were going. They had decided to give Quinlan a day or two before putting him in the village school to get settled. He walked in to find Lorna looking frazzled, with Honor clinging to her neck. The two little boys were setting the table with Quinlan carefully slicing a loaf of bread.

"I'm glad you're back," Lorna said giving Kieran a quick kiss. Honor immediately tried to go to Kieran but he stepped back.

"Da has to wash his hands or you'll get all dirty," he said. The little girl curled herself back against Lorna. She hadn't uttered a word since he had taken her from the workhouse.

"Here Quinlan you take Honor," Lorna said when he finished with the bread. "I'm just going to have a word with your Da."

Lorna followed Kieran into the washroom and closed the door.

"We had a bit of an incident. Quinlan broke a glass. I gave him the broom and pan to clean it up. He was shaking so bad he was almost sick. What did they do to that boy?"

"Plenty. I doubt we'll ever know the half of it. Do you think we should take him to the doctor?"

"I think they should all go for a check over," Lorna said.

"I'll take Quinlan with me to the garage this afternoon. It will give him something to do. I'll walk him over to the school as well later to get him signed up. Tom's going to come by and let me know about a cottage."

They walked back into the main room.

"Da is clean now, who's going to give him a hug," Kieran said. Honor was down and across the room in a flash, the other two young boys came over slowly and accepted the gesture. Quinlan stayed by the sink watching the adults cautiously.

"Honor you need to sit on your own chair so Da can eat," Kieran said once they were all seated. The little girl shook her head no. "Yes, Da needs to eat so he can go to work and buy you things." Again the head shook no. "Can you sit on a chair if Da puts it right beside his?" Finally there was a slight nod and the little arms loosened from around his neck. The chair and plate were repositioned and Kieran finally managed to get his lunch down.

After lunch he took Quinlan to the garage with him.

"I've got a few things you can do around here. After school you can come here and help me. I'll show you what to do to pump the gas when people come by for it. It's easy enough. We'll go by the school at three to get it fixed for you to start in a couple days."

"Yes, Sir, I mean Da," Quinlan replied.

"For now there's a pan and broom over in the corner. You can sweep the floor. I'll just get some things from the back shed and be right back."

Kieran went out back and returned with a piece of two by four and a couple thick dowels. When Quinlan saw the wood in his hands his eyes went huge. He stopped what he was doing and started crying, "I'm sorry, I'm sorry," he sobbed over and over.

Kieran stopped in his tracks. He didn't know what to do. He dropped the wood on the tool bench and went over to the boy.

"There's nothing to be sorry for," Kieran said laying a hand on the boy's shoulder. "What's the matter?"

Quinlan flinched.

"I'm sorry I broke the glass. I didn't mean to."

"I don't care about a stupid glass. It was an accident," Kieran said. He put his hands on the boys shoulders. He could feel how stiff the boy's body was. Quinlan didn't respond. He just stood there crying. Kieran looked over and spotted the wood on the tool bench he had been carrying. He squeezed Quinlan's shoulders reassuringly and looked into his face.

"Did you think I was going to hit you with that?" he asked tossing his head towards the wood.

Quinlan only nodded his tears had stopped and he was snuffling.

"You and me will make a pact right now. I'll never hit you, no matter what and you tell me when you're scared. How's that?"

Quinlan nodded cautiously.

"I thought you could spend the afternoon making some toys for your brothers and sister. You could cut that wood up and sand it to make some blocks. They don't have anything to play with. After school you can come here weekdays and make some toys for them for Christmas when there aren't any customers. You think you can do that?"

Quinlan nodded again.

Kieran got him set up with a saw and some sandpaper making wooden blocks. Tom stopped by and gave Kieran a list of three cottages that were vacant and the keys for each. Liam was with him and went over to see what Quinlan was doing. The boys spoke quietly for a minute before Tom called Liam to go with him.

At quarter to three Kieran had Quinlan wash his hands before they walked over to the village school. The children were just getting out and there were shouts of laughter and childish voices as the children ran out the doors and headed home.

Kieran showed the few papers they had for the boy to the head mistress.

"How much school have you had?" she asked Quinlan. The headmistress was a woman in her mid-thirties with a pleasant smile.

"I went a little before my parents died," Quinlan replied. "After that just when I was at the orphanage."

"We'll soon have you sorted out and in a class. You might have to do some extra work at home to catch up to the other children your age," she said. "When would you like Quinlan to start Mr. Branson?"

"It's up to the boy," Kieran said. "You can start tomorrow if you want Quinlan or you can wait till Monday. You decide."

"Tomorrow," Quinlan replied quietly.

"Fine, take your supply list and we'll pick up what you need on the way home," Kieran said. They picked up the pencils, notebook and slate Quinlan needed at the general store then walked back to the garage. Kieran went over to look at the blocks Quinlan had made for the younger children. He had done a good job of them so far and had just a few more left to sand.

"You've done a good job. Your little brothers and sister will be happy. Why don't you give the blocks to them tonight after dinner?"

Quinlan smiled and nodded at the praise.

Kieran watched the boy while he was working on the blocks. Quinlan would reach out and touch the packet with the school supplies every so often as though he expected the packet to vanish before his eyes. Kieran shook his head a little. Quinlan was going to take a lot of time and patience but he didn't regret bringing the boy home one bit.

-0-

Quinlan returned to the garage after school the next day and set his books on the tool bench.

"Well, how did it go?" Kieran asked not coming out from under the car he was fixing.

"Alright, I guess," Quinlan replied unenthusiastically.

"Did you meet the other boys your age?"

"No."

"Why not?"

"They put me with the little kids."

"That can't be right," Kieran replied. "I'll go have a word with the headmistress. Do you think you can mind the shop for a bit on your own?"

Quinlan nodded then said, "Yes, Da," quietly when he realized Kieran was still buried under the car.

"Put on a pair of my coveralls so you don't ruin your school clothes."

Twenty minutes later Kieran was at the Headmistress' office to inquire what was going on.

"I'm afraid Quinlan has missed a great deal of school," she told Kieran. "He can barely read or write beyond the very basics and he knows nothing about multiplication or division. He just can't go with the children his own age. He would be lost."

"I don't like it," Kieran said. "He needs friends."

"I'm sorry Mr. Branson, we just can't accommodate him in a higher class."

Kieran sighed and headed out the door. It had all seemed like such a good idea when he had been sitting in the Mrs. O'Hogan's office. He straightened up and headed back to the garage. They were his children now. One way or the other he was going to make this work.


	22. All in One Day Part II

All in One Day - Part II

Chapter 26 – Where We Are

"Lillian's telephoned and asked us to come over this evening for dinner," Kieran told Lorna at lunchtime on Friday. They used the telephone at the garage rather than have the extra expense of one at the flat.

It had been a busy week. They had walked the children around the cottages available and decided on one that was the closest to the village school.

"You mean I'll have my own room?" Quinlan asked when they had decided on a cottage.

"We weren't planning to keep you on the sofa indefinitely," Lorna replied. "We just weren't expecting quite so many children all at once or we would have moved before you came."

He had gone back upstairs to look at his room again before they left the building.

The two little boys were settling in. Brody and Declan were almost always happy to be doing something. They had been to the garage two mornings and stood beside Kieran and handed him tools and rode in the cars as Kieran moved them around. Lorna had taken them over to see her parents and they each had spent a day at the cheese shop sitting on a stool and watching their new Grandad stir the forming cheese.

Kieran and Lorna were having a crash course in parenting and had quickly learned not to give Declan anything to drink after supper and a trip to the washroom was in order before bedtime. It was Honor who was the biggest problem.

She clung constantly. The only time Lorna could get anything done was when she was down for a nap or Kieran was home. After three solid days of it, Lorna had decided to take her to the doctor for a check up. That had been a mistake. As soon as Honor had seen Dr. Clarkson's mustache she had screamed and run to the door, clawing at it to try and escape. Lorna had picked her up but she had been remained so terrified Dr. Clarkson had given her a sedative to calm her down. He examined her once she was asleep.

"Physically, she appears to be fine," he told Lorna. "She's had a great deal of disruption in her young life. Give her lots of milk, cereal, fruit and vegetables, exercise and patience. She'll talk when she is good and ready."

Every evening Kieran or Lorna worked with Quinlan on his lessons and had him read a story from his primer to the other children. Lorna had purchased a checkerboard and a deck of cards and had been teaching the children a few simple card games. Honor would sit close by on the floor while the others were playing checkers in front of the hearth and play with the blocks Quinlan had made or her doll.

Kieran's brother and a very excited Sybil greeted them at the door at Willowbrook House on Friday evening when they arrived for dinner. Sybil was used to having a large extended family around her and was thrilled to be meeting more cousins for the first time. She dashed forward to give her Uncle a hug and kiss as she had done every time she saw him since he had moved to Downton.

Before anyone knew what was happening Honor had pulled her hand free from Lorna's hand and was between Kieran and Sybil.

"No, no, my Da Da," Honor cried. She pushed Sybil back so hard she fell on her bottom and started to cry.

Tom quickly picked Sybil up off the floor and took her to the side. Kieran and Lorna bent down to scold Honor. The three boys were all frightened and huddled together. Lillian and Liam came out of the drawing room to see what the commotion was about.

"No Da is not going to pick you up," Kieran scolded. "Sybil is your cousin. Da loves her too. You go over and say you're sorry."

Honor was shifting back and forth between Kieran and Lorna trying to get picked up.

"No, Honor," Lorna said trying to be patient but having a hard time. "You don't push or hit. That was very naughty. You need to say sorry to Sybil."

Sybil had stopped crying and was looking at the other little girl with a sour expression.

"Honor didn't mean to be naughty," Lillian told Sybil. "She hasn't had a Daddy or Mama to give her hugs or kisses in a long time. She doesn't understand."

"I didn't have a Mama for a long time," Sybil replied.

"But you had Gran and Grandmamma and your Aunties," Tom told her. "And you had more kisses than you can count."

Sybil nodded slowly then approached the little girl who was still looking back and forth between her new parents. Honor had tried putting her hands out to Quinlan but he wasn't coming to her rescue either.

"Now you say sorry to Sybil and don't you ever do that again," Kieran scolded once Sybil was standing beside her new cousin.

Honor reached out and touched Kieran's lip where the moustache used to be before she turned to Sybil.

"Tory," she said.

Sybil kissed her on the cheek.

"Now you have a cousin for kisses too," Sybil said taking the other little girl by the hand. "My Daddy gives good hugs. He's your new uncle. We can play dolls after dinner if you want."

"Dolly, unco," Honor replied following Sybil to Tom to get a hug and kiss.

"Sybil, you take Honor to wash her hands, Liam you show the boys where to wash their hands upstairs then it's time for dinner," Lillian instructed after she had placed a kiss on Honor's cheek and each of the boys.

"She didn't get spanked," Brody whispered to the other boys while they were in the washroom.

"I don't think they're going to spank us," Quinlan whispered back. "At least he said he wouldn't."

Liam was drying Declan's hands.

"You should see the clothes they gave me and the place where they send me to the tutor," Liam whispered. "They could buy anything they want. I don't know what they want us for."

"Is it bigger than this?" Quinlan whispered.

Liam nodded.

"Wow. I don't know what they want," Quinlan whispered. "I just don't want to get sent back."

There was a tap at the door.

"Boys are you coming down," Tom said. "I'm just getting Ronan."

"Well be right there Tom," Liam called.

"Are you already for the move Sunday?" Lillian asked Lorna over dinner.

"Pretty well, we've moved a few things over already. With Kieran, Tom and the two boys it shouldn't take too long."

"My mother sent a trunk with some of my brothers' old things. We can go through it after dinner and see what will do for Quinlan," Lillian said. "My brothers both grew so fast they hardly had time to wear one set of clothes before they were into another."

The two older boys were busy watching Tom and trying to imitate his table manners while Sybil was holding court with the younger children at a small side table.

"Would you all care to join me for games in the drawing room after the meal?" Sybil inquired of Brody, Declan and Honor. "Perhaps Mama will play a song for us."

Tom couldn't help but snigger when he overheard her. She was the perfect imitation of her aristocratic relatives in pint size form.

"We play checkers at home," Brody informed her.

"How delightful. We have that game too," Sybil replied. "Do you play the piano? My new brother plays the violin."

"No, never tried," Brody replied.

"I can play London Bridge is Falling Down," Sybil said forgetting her aristocratic façade.

"Never heard of it," Declan said.

"Oh, it's fun. I'll show you how to play," Sybil replied. "Hurry up and eat. Then we can go play."

"Pay London Bidge," Honor garbled out.

The adults had all been listening to the exchange at the children's table and were trying to hold back the laughter.

"May we be excused?" Sybil asked a few minutes later.

"Yes, take everyone to the powder room to wash their hands before you go into the drawing room," Lillian told her.

"That's the first meal I've had all week that I could actually get the food into my mouth," Kieran commented when Sybil had taken the younger group through to play games in the drawing room.

"May we be excused as well?" Liam asked.

"Yes, go ahead," Tom replied.

"Liam seems to be adjusting well," Lorna commented.

"I don't know," Tom said. "He's anxious to please. I can say that about him."

"I gave him a music lesson on Monday. He practiced until the ends of his fingers started to bleed," Lillian added. "It's going to take time for them all to adjust."

Liam had taken Quinlan to his room to show him his new prize possession, a fold out map of the British Isles.

"Where's Belfast?" Quinlan asked as they peered at the map.

"There and we're here," Liam said.

"Too far for them to send us back," Quinlan said.

"Yeah, it's pretty far."

"I was at Newry last time," Quinlan said. "That's pretty close to Belfast," he commented once they found it on the map. "Maybe this time they won't send me back."

"They changed our last names. I don't think they can send us back," Liam said.

"I hope not. The new Da is kinda loud but they tuck me in at night and they haven't hit me yet. I'm going to get my own room when we move on Sunday."

"Look at this," Liam said opening the armoire door.

"Whoa."

"Some of it belonged to the Lord at the big house when he was young. He's the talkative one's grandfather. They got a box full for you too."

"I keep thinking I'm going to wake up and it will all be gone."

"Me too. I'm not giving them any reason to send me away."

The younger children sang London Bridge, Ring around the Rosy and Farmer in the Dell so many times over the next few weeks they almost drove Lorna mad. She was very glad to be living in a cottage with a back garden where they could play when it wasn't raining. Honor was still their biggest problem. Now that she had started speaking a bit it was easier to find out what she wanted, but she was still incredibly clingy. Quinlan had his own room at the new cottage and Brody and Declan shared a double bed in another. They had decided to put Honor into a small bedroom of her own as the boys would soon be too old to share with a girl.

The first night, Honor had crawled in with Kieran and Lorna three times and been put back to bed. In the morning they had found her in Quinlan's bed. Every night for the next three weeks was a repeat of Honor sneaking into one bed or another. Kieran was at his wits end after one night when he and Lorna were in the middle of making love a small hand had patted him on the foot and "Da Da" came from the end of the bed. They looked over to see a small head peering over the foot of the bed. All thoughts of anything romantic were instantly squashed.

"Good God," Kieran groaned as he fell back onto the mattress. "Da da is trying to sleep. You need to sleep too."

"Dolly sleep," Honor stated.

Lorna rolled out of bed and got her housecoat.

"Dolly is sleeping on the shelf in your room," Lorna replied.

"Dolly sleep, Ma Ma."

Lorna took Honor back to her room and tucked her back in. She took the doll off the shelf and tucked it into bed with Honor in hopes it would settle her enough to stay put. Honor stuck her arms up to Lorna for another hug.

"Love, Ma Ma."

"Do you love Ma Ma?" Lorna asked smoothing the little girl's hair back after she had given her the hug. "Ma Ma loves you, now go to sleep and no wandering."

"Love, Ma Ma," Honor said again as she was drifting off.

"I think our daughter just told me she loves me," Lorna told her husband as she slipped back into bed with him. "I feel strange. It's the first time one of them has come right out and said it."

"They'll all say it one day," Kieran said. "For tonight let's get some sleep before she gets up again."

* * *

Chapter 27 – Confessions

Christmas was approaching and Kieran had been keeping Quinlan occupied after school at the garage making toys for the younger children. Kieran often didn't know what to do with the boy. The little ones were easy and accepted affection like sponges drinking every drop into their little souls. Quinlan was different. He had been an orphan since he was six and a half years old. He had only gone to school for part of the first year and he couldn't remember much before that. His experiences had left him fearful and withdrawn. He was fairly bright, caught on quickly and had a good imagination. He still flinched when Kieran came to the workbench to see his progress on his projects, but accepted praise with a smile. Kieran had ruffled his hair and dropped a kiss on the top of his head a few times. Quinlan had stared at him with large round eyes then slowly gone back to work.

"Can I use the welder, Da?" Quinlan asked Kieran one afternoon a few days before Christmas.

"Depends," Kieran replied. "What you want to use it for and if you know how to use it properly."

"I want to weld these together to make a steering wheel." Quinlan held out some scrap metal.

"Alright," Kieran replied. "I'll watch you the first time to make sure you know what you're doing."

Quinlan looked frightened as he went over to the welding equipment. He glanced at Kieran cautiously for any sign of danger. Kieran got a mask and gloves and handed them to Quinlan the donned a pair of welding goggles. He watched as Quinlan lit the torch and adjusted the mix. The boy dropped the mask, cut the bits of metal then welded them into the shape he wanted. When Quinlan had the torch out and the metal had cooled enough to handle Kieran picked it up to examine the weld.

"You did a grand job," he said. "I'll have to brag to all the blokes what a good welder my son is. I'll just finish up then we'll go home for supper."

Kieran went to the tool bench before they left to check on Quinlan's work on the toys. He had carved a car from a block of wood and painted it. The car had an old metal ring for a spare tire and the windshield frame was fashioned from a bit of scrap metal. The tires rolled and were covered with rubber cut from an inner tube. Other bits on the car like the steering wheel were made from odd pieces of discarded car parts.

"That's just grand son. You're brother will love it," Kieran praised. Suddenly a pair of boyish arms went around Kieran's waist and Quinlan was sobbing against him.

"Here now, what's the problem," Kieran said as he stood there and held the boy. Quinlan shook his head and wouldn't answer. "Bad memories when you were welding?" Quinlan nodded but didn't look up or let go his grip. "I don't know what to tell you son, except that is never going to happen again. I'd like to get a hold of the bastard that burned you and fix him good. He'll get his one-day. He'll be roasting in hell."

"He…he…he didn't just burn me," Quinlan finally blubbered against Kieran. "He…he," there was a long pause, "did other stuff too."

"Jesus Christ," Kieran muttered. "Did he touch you? In a private way?"

There was a nod.

"I'm sorry my boy, sorry I didn't find you sooner." Kieran pulled out his hanky and wiped the boy's face. "It seems I've been doing a lot of this this last while," he joked. "I'm going to go broke buying hankies to wipe away my children's tears. Come on now. Go put some cold water on your face and we'll get some dinner. Be quick about it and we'll stop by the bake shop for some sweet buns."

Kieran gripped the tool bench in his hands while Quinlan was in the bathroom. The rage inside him was intense. He wanted to get on a train and go to Ireland, track the man down and rip his head off with his bare hands. He took a few breaths to steady himself. What he was going to do was get himself home and give the boy a normal life for the rest of his childhood.

Kieran put his arm around Quinlan's shoulders after he had locked up and they headed down the street.

"You given any thought on how you're going to wrap up your presents? I've got some brown paper. You figure out how you can make it look nice. I've never seen a boy as smart as you for figuring these things out."

Quinlan looked up at Kieran and smiled properly for the first time since he had come home.

"Leave it to me, Da."

"That's my boy. You're ol' Da isn't good at these things, too much grease under my nails. I still haven't got your Ma a present. We'll close up early tomorrow and go get one. You can help pick it out."

Quinlan nodded happily.

"I do love you son," Kieran whispered close to his ear before they entered the bakeshop. "Just don't tell anyone. I've got a reputation to uphold," he added with a wink before he started flirting with the woman behind the counter who had grey hair and enough wrinkles on her face she could have easily been Kieran's own grandmother.

-0-

"The Crawleys are all off to Scotland this year for Christmas," Tom said when he got home. "We'll be having Christmas Day at home for a change."

"Are Edith and John going as well?" Lillian asked.

"Yes, the entire clan," Tom replied.

"It's a bit late to plan a dinner."

"I don't see what the fuss is about. It's a dinner like any other. Invite Kieran and Lorna and their brood and Lorna's parents, we have something to eat, you play a few tunes on the piano and Bob's your Uncle."

"Ugh, men," Lillian replied. She had to laugh at the mystified look on her husband's face before she gave him a kiss, and then went off to talk to the housekeeper about the change in plans.

Lillian had been hoping her parents could stay at the Abbey when they arrived for the celebrations, now she had no idea how she would shuffle everyone around. Her parents had in fact adopted a boy and a girl from the London foundling home where she had volunteered. The house would be packed to overflowing. Lillian had an announcement of her own to make but she was waiting for Christmas Day. She was apprehensive, as she had no idea how they would manage or how the older children would react but she had set the course and now she had to navigate it.

The two babies she had brought home were no problem at all. Aideen and Branna where like any other five month old babies. They needed cuddling, nappy changes, feeding and a walk in the pram when it wasn't raining. Liam was well behaved and did as he was told but there was something about him she just couldn't put her finger on. Tom had mentioned the same thing. Liam practiced his music everyday like clockwork. More than once they had found him slumped over his lessons he had brought home to do in the evening fast asleep. He helped out with the younger children. He had made some friends among the children of their friends and been invited to a few birthday parties. He had walked down to garage on rainy Saturday afternoons to help Quinlan pump gas and spend some time with his adopted cousins. There was really nothing to complain about. It just seemed like something was missing.

"What is it?" Quinlan asked when he opened his gift on Christmas morning. Kieran and Lorna hadn't been able to provide anything spectacular for the children for presents but to them it was like a windfall. They had the toys Quinlan had made. Each of the boys had a knit vest and Honor had a sweater from their grandparents. Plus each one had received a writing tablet and a small pack of wax crayons. Quinlan being older had received a pack of colored pencils. Now he was holding a small book in his hands and looking at it in puzzlement.

"What does it say on the cover?" Lorna asked him.

"Sc-ooow-ting for boys," he read slowly.

"We thought you might like to try it," Kieran said. "The Scout master asked me if you'd like to come at church last week. It's a group once a week for boys your age. They play games, toast marshmallows, go for hikes and fishing, that sort of thing. You think you'd like to go?"

"I want to go too, Da," Brody chirped up from where he and Declan were playing with the new toy car.

"When you're old enough," Lorna replied.

"You don't think the other boys will laugh because I can't read as well as them?" Quinlan asked. He was moving up a class in January but he was still a full year behind the other children his age. They would have to work with him all summer to get him up to a level where he would be able to attend with his peers in the fall. Other than Liam, Quinlan didn't have any friends and it had worried his new parents a great deal. Scouts seemed like a good idea where he could play some games and spend some time with boys his own age.

"That's not what you're going to be doing there. Here look in the book. There are badges you can earn for doing all sorts of things. Look here, there's even one for wood working and you can do that probably better than the lot of them," Kieran said.

"You'll do just fine," Lorna added. "I'll drive you after school on Tuesdays."

Quinlan nodded and smiled then sat looking through the book at the pictures of all the badges he could earn. Honor went dashing over to him with one of her new doll chairs in her hand.

"I love Kinan," she proclaimed wrapping her arms around his neck.

"I love Honor," Quinlan replied while still looking at his book and absentmindedly hugging her back. Lorna got up and went to the kitchen. Kieran went behind her to find her wiping her eyes with a hanky.

"It will happen love, all in good time," he said pulling her into his arms. "He just needs time."

-0-

"Where's the lot from the big house?" Kieran inquired once they were all sitting in the drawing room at Willowbrook House after Christmas dinner. You're usually up there for the day."

"They've all gone to Scotland to visit the Marquess of something or other and his obnoxious spoiled daughter," Tom replied.

"I'm surprised you didn't go with them Mr. La-de-da," Kieran ribbed Tom.

"Up yours Kieran," Tom replied. They both laughed. Tom was busy bouncing Ronan on his knee. The women were all cooing over the babies with the little girls gathered around fascinated. Mycroft and Mr. Clarke were sitting with the other men and the two older boys were pouring over the atlas Liam had received for Christmas. The three little boys were busy playing with the beanbag toss Declan had received from Quinlan and brought along to show the other children.

"Besides the last time that old blow hard was here he was going on about how the English have a God given right to Northern Ireland," Tom said.

"I've never met the Marquess of Flincher, but I've heard he's rather a big mouth," Mycroft added.

"That about sums it up," Tom replied. "The old coot almost keeled over when he found out he was sharing the dinner table with someone who started out as a working class man."

"I thought you were related," Kieran said to Mycroft.

"No, I'm related to Robert through his father. The ones they have gone to visit are related through his mother."

"So how come you're not a Lord?" Kieran asked.

"Politics of inheritance. You can't inherit through your mother and besides my father worked for a living. Almost gave my grandparents a coronary when my parents got engaged so the story goes."

"What did he do?" Kieran asked.

"A banker. In those days it was unheard of for a member of the aristocracy to have a job or to marry anyone who actually worked."

Tom glanced over to see the two older boys looking at him strangely.

"Is there something the matter? Do I have food on my shirt?" Tom asked them.

"What do you mean working class?" Liam asked hesitantly.

"What do you think he means," Kieran said cocking one eyebrow. "You don't think he's always lived in a fancy house or had those fancy manners."

"I've always had better manners than you," Tom jibbed his brother back. He turned to the boys. "The fact is I started out as a chauffeur, then a journalist and then finally an Estate Agent."

"I thought you were rich," Liam said.

Kieran laughed and cocked a thumb at Tom. "Him? Mr. La-de-da who still buys and sells cars on the side to make a few extra dollars. Speaking of that I got a line on a car to look at next week. Do you want to go in on it with me? We could make a tidy bit."

"Sure, just let me know how much," Tom said bouncing Ronan in the air. The boys were still looking at each other oddly.

"We're not rich, far from it," Tom addressed the two boys after a bit. "The house comes with the job. The furniture is all used. I got most of it for free from the attic at the main house. The job pays well and no one around here is going to starve or do without but we certainly aren't rich."

"Then why?" Liam asked. He had been wondering since everyone arrived why Tom and Lillian had adopted him. Everyone here had adopted children it didn't make sense.

"Why what?" Tom asked him seriously.

"Why did you adopt all of us?" Liam finally said. All of the children stopped playing and turned around waiting for the answer. The only natural child that was old enough to understand was Sybil and she was waiting for the answer as well.

"Each of us had different reasons," Tom said slowly. "It all started because Lillian worked with orphans and is involved in politics trying to get the workhouses shut down." Tom glanced at Lillian. He didn't know how much he should say. "She has always wanted to bring more children into our home to love. When she went with Kieran to Belfast, it seemed like the time was right."

"Oh," Liam replied looking down. "I never understood why."

"It's not the only reason, Liam," Lillian continued coming over to stand beside Tom while holding Branna in her arms. "I met you and I just knew you belonged with us. I can't tell you how I knew, I just did."

"Sort of like I did with you lot," Kieran added. "I was only planning to bring home a little boy and then I met all of you and I knew I had to bring you back with me. It surprised me how strong I felt about it. You were my children and no one was going to stop me."

"What about us Papa?" Albert a little boy of nine asked Mycroft. His adopted sister Elizabeth-Anne was standing beside him nervously holding his hand. They had been adopted over a year ago but from time to time they still had lingering doubts.

"Mama and I had different reasons," Mycroft said slowly. "Our son's are dead and your older sister here was married and gone from home. We were lonely without any children to love and care for. So we went and looked for two special ones to add to our house and there you were."

The two children dashed over and hugged Mycroft.

"There, there, where's that stiff British upper lip?" he said giving them each a squeeze.

"You are all wanted whether we planned on adopting you or not," Lorna added. Danielle nodded her agreement.

"And you Miss Sybil," Tom added. "Your mother and I couldn't have been happier when you were born."

"Even though she went to live with the angels Daddy?" Sybil asked.

"Yes, even then I was still happy I had you," Tom replied.

"Oh enough of this, you're all going to make me cry," Lillian said. "Here Papa take Branna. Liam it's time to give everyone your gift."

Liam went and got his violin while Lillian went to the piano. She had planned on making an announcement of her own but the time just wasn't right. It could wait.

"Everyone get up and push back the furniture. Put all the toys away children," Lillian said. "Tom, Kieran, Lorna, Mr. and Mrs. Clarke will show you how to dance the jig. Quinlan too if you know how."

As soon as everything was moved and everyone was paired up, Liam and Lillian started to play the jigs and reels they had prepared. The adults danced with the littlest ones in their arms with the two babies on the sofa surrounded by pillows.

"I remember," Quinlan said with a smile when everyone was out of breath and the music stopped for a bit. "I remember when I was really little we did this. There was a big room with candles and lots of people."

Tom went to Liam and put an arm around him while the boy was setting down his violin. "Thank you son, it was the best gift you could have given me."

"I remember too, Da," Liam said as he looked at Tom and really smiled for the first time.

* * *

Chapter 28 – A Dilemna

"So when were you going to tell me?" Tom asked his wife one morning in mid-January while he was tying his tie in the mirror.

"Tell you what?" Lillian answered evasively.

"About the baby we're expecting."

"How did you know?"

"HP Sauce on your soft boiled egg for breakfast, your waist is a little bigger than normal and you haven't had, ehm, the female time in quite a while. We do sleep together every night. I noticed."

"Oh Tom, I was just worried how the news would go with the family. Are you happy?"

"Of course I'm happy," he replied pulling on his jacket then going over to pull her into his arms and giving her a quick peck on the mouth. "Worried about how the pregnancy will go, but happy."

"Not worried where we will put another one or how the other children will react?"

"Details. It will be what it will be. We might have to convert part of the servants' quarters in the attic into a proper bedroom and move Liam up there but we have lots of time to get that done. When can we expect our bundle of joy?"

"Six and a half months or so. Liam is a big part of the reason I haven't said anything. He's just starting to relax and really fit in."

"We'll tell Sybil and Liam later today," Tom replied still excited about the news. "We don't have to worry about Sybil. She thinks every new arrival is another playmate. Right now I need to get the children over to the tutor and get to work. I'll go riding with them this afternoon if I'm back in time for their lesson."

Lillian was smiling happily when Tom kissed her again before he dashed out the door.

"Da, can I go to Scouts with Quinlan?" Liam asked later that afternoon while Tom was riding beside him.

"I suppose as long as it doesn't interfere with any of your studies. We can talk to Lillian about it when we get back if she agrees then yes. Sybil don't you dare jump that fence," Tom shouted.

"I could have made it, Daddy," Sybil said as she reined in beside Tom and Liam.

"Not in all this mud you couldn't," Tom replied sternly. He looked at Liam. "You've grown. We need to see about swapping your riding clothes around. The best thing about the upper classes is they never throw anything away. You can find almost anything you can think of in the attics."

"Do we do that because we can't afford it?" Liam asked. He had been an only child and with no relatives he was not used to hand me downs.

"No, we can afford to buy clothes and shoes and all sorts of things. It just makes more sense to use what we already have. Even wealthy people do that. Sybil's riding costume would have belonged to both her Aunts, her mother and Alice before it came to her. It will go to Charlotte, Mary's daughter next then most likely to Aideen or Branna."

"Wow, that's a lot of people."

"We just steer clear of Mosely. He has terrible taste," Tom said with a wink. "If we can't find something, then we'll buy a piece or two."

"Daddy where am I going to go to school next year?" Sybil asked. "Everyone is going to go to the grammar school in Ripon but me."

"I'm not sure sweetheart, we'll work something out." Tom glanced over to where four year old Freddie was riding with a groom riding beside him holding the lead on his pony. Freddie wouldn't be old enough for school lessons for another two years. It would be up to Matthew and Mary how they chose to educate him. Tom had no desire to send his children to boarding school and no desire to send Sybil to a private school until she was at least eight or nine. Public school was out of the question with the family connections.

"Why can't I go to the village school?"

"Because for most of those children Daddy is their Daddy's boss and Grandpapa is the landlord. It isn't a good idea. Most of the other children's Mommies and Daddies wouldn't be uncomfortable with you there."

"But Daddy, I don't understand why," Sybil replied.

"We'll discuss it when we are home and have more time."

"I suppose," Sybil replied with a sigh. "Can Quinlan come riding with us?"

"You may ask Grandpapa's permission to invite him," Tom replied.

-0-

"Kieran, you need to come home right now," Lorna said as she dashed into the garage that afternoon.

"What's wrong is one of the children hurt?" Kieran asked in concern.

"No ones hurt exactly. It's Quinlan. He came home from school early. He's locked himself in his room and won't come out. I can hear him crying through the door. I took the boys to my parents. Honor is asleep."

Kieran shucked off his coveralls and grabbed his jacket on the way out. He had the door locked and they half walked, half ran back to cottage as fast as they could. Lorna went to check that Honor was still asleep while Kieran went to Quinlan's bedroom door.

"Quinlan open up. It's Da."

"Go away."

"That's no way to speak to your father and this won't solve anything. Open the door and talk to me."

Kieran could hear shuffling on the other side of the door and the hiccups of abating sobs. The latch finally clicked open to reveal a tear stained Quinlan.

"Now my lad, you go wash your face then you can come down to the kitchen and tell us what is the matter."

"I can't tell Ma. It's too embarrassing."

"Can you tell me?"

Quinlan nodded.

"Alright meet me in the sitting room. I don't want to wake up Honor."

Kieran went to find Lorna.

"Just let me talk to him on my own. I'll tell you what's going on in a bit."

Quinlan came to the sitting room and dashed straight into Kieran's arms.

"It's OK. Whatever it is you can tell me. I won't be upset," Kieran said.

"I don't want to go back to school."

"Why not? What happened?"

"There is this girl in my class. She's bigger than the others and kind of pretty."

"Did she slap your face? I tried to kiss a girl when I was your age and got a slap for my trouble."

"No. It was worse. She was sitting across from me and I had to stand to read out loud. I can't say it Da."

"Yes, you can. You haven't said anything that isn't normal for a boy of your age. You'll be twelve in a few weeks. It's natural you would start to notice girls. What else happened?"

"When I stood up, it was…I can't."

"Oh," Kieran said with a dawning realization. "I think I understand what happened, but tell me anyways."

"My willy was sticking out straight. All the other kids saw and pointed and starting laughing. They called me names. At lunchtime they told all the other kids on the playground. They followed me around and called me names. I came home."

"These things happen. What happened to you is normal. You're body is going to do that. It will happen to those boys too in a year or two. The kids will forget by tomorrow and be on to something else."

"No they won't. They call me names all the time because I'm in the baby classes and make fun of my accent. They do it when the teachers aren't around and they draw mean pictures and put them in my desk."

"I see. Does this happen often?"

"Almost everyday."

"Do the boys at Scouts do that to you as well?"

"No, they're all the same age or older and we go to the same church. Some of them are Irish too."

"Now don't you fret, you're Ma and I will go to the school and get things sorted out this afternoon. You stay here and take care of Honor. Do you want to know a secret?"

"What is it?"

"What happened to you happened to me when I was your age. I saw this pretty girl walk by while I was shoveling coal. All the men laughed and slapped me on the back. I didn't understand until I got a bit older." Kieran said with a lopsided grin. "What happened to you happens to all boys when they become men. When my willy does something I don't want it to, I think about how Mrs. Peirce at the bakeshop would look without any clothes on. That fixes it every time." Kieran shuddered at the thought.

"I don't quite get why that would work," Quinlan said with a frown.

"Think about that Mrs. O'Hogan back at the workhouse," Kieran said.

"Oh," Quinlan said realizing what his father was getting at. "Mrs. Pierce without clothes would be pretty ugly, Da."

"There see it's not the end of the world. I'll go talk to your Ma and we'll get something figured out."

Kieran told Lorna what had happened and about the bullying.

"My poor little boy," she said. "I won't stand for it."

"We'll go talk to the headmistress. Quinlan can stay here with Honor."

Before they left Lorna went to hug Quinlan.

"Don't worry my love, Ma and Da are here to take care of you." She kissed his cheek. He was almost as tall as she was but right then he was no bigger than Brody or Declan.

-0-

"Mr. and Mrs. Branson, I had no idea the bullying was this extensive," the headmistress said. "I very much regret this but in reality we can't keep an eye on the other children every minute."

"I realize that," Kieran said. "But we won't have him picked on. He's been through enough. He's trying his best. Isn't there something that can be done?"

"To be honest Quinlan should really have a private tutor. He's still very behind. He's a bright boy but he's missed so much even with you doing lesson work at home it's doubtful he'll catch up enough to be with his age group by fall. Even if he were he would still struggle and there have been incidents."

"What kind of incidents?" Lorna asked.

"Locking himself in the water closet, referring to the King as well," Miss Pickering cleared her throat. "_"an oppressive bastard"."_

"Wonder where he got that one from," Kieran said with a slight smirk. "Sorry I know it's not funny. What else?"

"He tried to hit the teacher when he was giving the strap to another boy, stealing."

"Just hold on a minute. I can understand the rest, but stealing? That's a serious charge," Kieran said.

"His teacher found a pile of coins in Quinlan's desk. Quinlan wouldn't tell where he got them. Even after the instructor administered the strap he wouldn't say. We haven't had any reports of missing money but it is still highly irregular."

"Let's get one thing straight," Kieran said, his voice was starting to rise.

"Kieran, settle down. What my husband is trying to say is that we don't hold with anyone striking our son for no reason. Finding coins in a boy's desk does not automatically mean that he stole them especially if no one else has reported the loss."

"What other explanation can there be?"

"We'll talk to him when we get home," Kieran said. "I'm not sure he'll be back. I can't abide with the strap if he hasn't done anything wrong. We'll let you know what we decide later today."

"Thank you for your time, Miss Pickering," Lorna said as she rose to leave.

"We'll find out about the coins but I don't want him going back," Kieran said. "I got the strap often enough when I was a lad, but I had it coming and I was a lot tougher than he is."

"I don't want him going back there either," Lorna replied. "What are we going to do?"

"Teach him ourselves maybe. Those two of Tom's don't go to regular school and they're both happy as larks."

"Kieran we can't afford a private tutor."

"Can't hurt to look into it. Although I don't like to think of any child of mine going to that toffy nosed house for lessons. There has to be options."

"Sybil has lived there and she is just fine."

"And her mother was an aristocrat."

"True," Lorna said. "He called the King an oppressive bastard," she said with a giggle.

"I almost applauded," Kieran replied with a chuckle.

When they got home Honor was up and playing about the kitchen. Quinlan was busy getting tea ready.

"Come sit," Lorna said pulling out a chair at the kitchen table. They sat down with one on either side of Quinlan. He was looking nervous as though he was going to throw up.

"First I'd like an explanation about the coins your teacher found in your desk."

"They're mine. I didn't steal them," Quinlan replied looking frightened.

"Then where did you get them?" Kieran asked.

"Sometimes when people come for petrol they give me a coin," Quinlan said in a small voice.

"Why didn't you tell the teacher that and why did you take them to school," Kieran questioned.

"He called me a dirty thieving Mick so he wouldn't have believed me. He always says things like that. I took them to school because I always keep them close…in case you tried to send me away. I won't go back to Belfast. I'll run away first." Quinlan buried his head in his arms and started crying all over again.

"Hush now," Lorna soothed stroking his hair. "You're not going back to Belfast or to that school. You're father will go tell the headmistress and get your coins back. They're yours and they had no right to take them. That man shouldn't have said those things or struck you. People are going to say bad things you have to learn to ignore them."

She looked at Kieran over Quinlan's head as he headed out the door.

"He shouldn't have hit the other boy either. I was trying to stop him," Quinlan said.

"I know that," Lorna said still stroking his hair. "You're very brave to stand up for a younger boy. You shouldn't have called the King an oppressive bastard at school."

"Why not? Uncle Tom says it all the time, so does Da and Grandad."

"We're Irish in an English land. There are some things you only say around family or your own kind. Sometimes Uncle Tom says things that are meant for grown ups. They could get a boy like you in trouble. Now you did the right thing by telling us. Give Ma a hug."

Quinlan reached over and wrapped himself into Lorna's embrace while they were both still sitting.

"Where am I going to go to school?" he questioned with his head resting on her shoulder.

"I don't know the answer to that yet, but Ma and Da will figure something out," Lorna said kissing the top of his hair and rocking him a bit. The reddish brown of his hair reminded her of Kieran's.

"I love you, Ma," Quinlan said.

"I love you too, my darling boy," she said quietly.

Kieran showed up an hour later. He set Quinlan's lunch box on the table plus a jam tin with a slot cut in the top and Quinlan's pile of coins.

"I made you a bank to keep your coins in. You can keep it safe in your room. Then when it gets full, you can take it to the bank and open an account."

"Thank you, Da," Quinlan said. He picked up his new coin bank and his stack of coins and headed off to his room.

"I need to go back to work for a bit," Kieran said. "I'll phone over and see if Tom and Lillian are home tonight. They know more about tutors and schooling than that lot at the village school put together."

"Where are the rest of Quinlan's things?" Lorna asked.

"It turns out his teacher wasn't too keen on having the estate agents' nephew in his class. There were quite a few interesting comments written in his notebook. The headmistress kept it to take to the school trustees. I'm washing my hands of it. We need to figure out what to do about schooling Quinlan and the others when the time comes."

"We can't afford private school," Lorna replied worriedly.

"Don't fret about it now," Kieran said giving her a kiss. "We'll talk to the family and figure something out."

-0-

"I want another brother," Sybil said when she and Liam were told the news of Lillian's pregnancy.

"You can't just order babies up the way you want them," Tom replied picking Sybil up and tickling her.

"Daddy, stop," Sybil giggled kicking her legs.

"We'll have babies hanging from the rafters by the time we're through," Tom said laughing.

"We're is everyone going to sleep?" Liam asked.

"We've got time to figure it out," Tom said. "At least we have enough musicians in the house we won't lack for lullabies."

"Tom you're so ridiculous," Lillian said laughing. "We'll get the carpenters in and make another room or maybe two."

"No we won't," Tom said swinging Sybil around. "We'll stack them in the stables or maybe grow babies in the garden like turnips."

"Tom, I never knew you were such a ridiculous man," Lillian said laughing.

"I think our son needs a spin too," Tom said setting Sybil down and grabbing Liam and throwing him over his shoulder. He spun around in a few circles before setting a very dizzy, laughing Liam on the floor. "This time only one baby in a day if you please dear Lillian. I still can't tell the youngest two apart. They are awfully cute though."

Right then the housekeeper showed Kieran, Lorna and Quinlan into the sitting room. From the look on Kieran's face Tom knew instantly something was wrong.

"Quinlan, Grandpapa said you can come riding with us. Would you like to come?" Sybil asked before she said hello to anyone.

"May I Da?" he asked.

"Yes, that's fine," Kieran replied.

"Liam take Quinlan upstairs and let him try on the riding gear you've just grown out of and everything else that is too tight," Tom said seriously. "We'll find you something else for riding. Sybil you go with them."

Once the children had left the room, Tom turned back to his brother.

"What's going on?"

"We have a dilemma and we need your help," Lorna replied.

* * *

Chapter 29 – Making it Work

"Good grief," ostracizing the boy because of a family connection no matter how slight is inexcusable," Matthew Crawley commented the next morning while the family was having a breakfast meeting.

"A dreadful business. I will put my mother onto the Board of Trustees to look into the matter. Since there is physical proof of misconduct she will see the man loses his position and has difficulty reapplying," Lord Grantham added.

"That's all well and good," Tom said. "The problem my brother and his wife are facing is how to get the boy an education. He's taking part in music and art studies this morning with Lillian and the children. They were wondering if there was anyway to arrange a few evenings a week with the children's tutor, Mr. Barnstead. They would pay the extra wages of course."

"It's a dreadful business," Edith commented. "We should be able to do something."

"Why can't the boy just join the classes here for the rest of the school year?" John commented.

"I checked Barnstead's contract last fall when Liam arrived. The terms state a maximum of four children to tutor," Tom said.

"Can't the boy simply transfer to a school in Ripon?" Robert asked.

"No, he's had very little schooling. It's part of the problem. He's behind worse than Liam was. Liam has caught up, Quinlan hasn't. He's bright enough, but the bullying has slowed things down considerably."

"I don't know if I'm comfortable with the idea of him being here," Robert said.

"My brother said about the same thing," Tom replied. "In the fall, I'll employ Mr. Barnstead to tutor Sybil at Willowbrook House. Quinlan and Brody will join her. There's no point in putting my other niece and nephews into a school where the family connection will create problems for them as well."

"What do you know about the boy?" Matthew inquired.

"Very little. Quinlan was orphaned quite young. He has almost no memory of his early childhood. He remembers being at boarding school then being taken to the workhouse. He was sent out to work, then sent back to the workhouse. His accent is definitely of the Irish upper classes in the north of Ireland. He's quiet, does as he's told, and is good with the little ones. My brother says he can turn his hand to almost anything," Tom replied.

"If he's from a better family why was he sent to the workhouse?" Robert asked.

"There's no sorting the children by background in those places and no way to know if he actually was from a middle class or wealthy home. His records were sketchy at best. The children are all lumped together. You know Liam well enough. He's from a family similar to Matthew's," Tom replied. "We know nothing about the girls'."

"The matter seems simple," John said. "Renegotiate Barnstead's contract. He was happy enough to get the position when I engaged him. With the lack of openings after the general strike last year his post must seem like a godsend. He only works four and a half days a week at present if that. It's not like he's overworked. Adding one more child even part time shouldn't be an issue."

"I'll consider it once I have meet the boy," Robert said. "Sybil asked if he could go riding with them. When do they have riding lessons next scheduled?"

"Tomorrow morning," John replied.

"Have him come along. I'll make a decision and we'll sort it out tomorrow afternoon," Robert stated.

"Do try to be fair, Papa," Edith encouraged.

"Any decision will have to involve my brother and his wife," Tom replied.

"Yes, yes, quite so," Robert said before they carried on with the business of running the estate.

"I don't like the idea of those hoity-toitys at the big house judging my boy," Kieran said when Tom stopped by later that morning.

"They are trying to help in their own way," Tom replied trying to sooth Kieran's ruffled feathers. "If Lord Grantham gives his permission for Quinlan to attend classes with John's two and mine, he'll have a chance, a good one."

"And what about the cost?" Kieran asked.

"I don't know all the details at the moment. You can pay the difference if there is any. If it's a go then they'll renegotiate the tutor's contract tomorrow. Half his wages are paid from Sybil's allowance, which transferred in trust from her mother. Mr. Barnstead was only too happy to get the position when John Harris engaged him. He was educated at Oxford and injured in the war. He walks with a stick and only has the use of one arm. My two adore him."

"No strap. I won't abide anyone striking him," Lorna said.

"John Harris won't allow the strap for Peter or Alice either. We all agreed when I lived there discipline outside of scolding or standing in the corner was up to the child's own parents."

"I don't like it but I don't see we have a choice," Kieran said.

"It's what's best for Quinlan that matters," Lorna added.

"By the way," Tom added before he left. "Old Lady Grantham is going after the Board of School Trustees to take care of Quinlan's last teacher. He will rue the day he said or did anything against her family no matter how faint the connection."

"Well, at least that's something," Lorna replied.

"Now mind, not a word about the King while you're there," Lorna clucked at Quinlan the next morning before he was about to leave to walk over to Willowbrook House and meet Sybil and Liam to go riding. "Mind your manners and remember to say please and thank you."

"Ma, I'm not a baby," Quinlan said.

"No, you're looking very handsome and grown up in your new riding clothes. I just want everything to go well for you."

"We're just going out for a ride, Ma. It's not that important. I'm going to practice the flute Aunt Lillian loaned me when I get back. It's easier than it looks."

"We'll do some reading as well. Now off you go," Lorna said.

The children were already mounted and waiting for him when Lord Grantham arrived at the stables that morning. He spotted the boy, Quinlan talking to Liam and looking like he had been riding all his life.

"Thank you for inviting me, Sir," Quinlan said shyly to Robert once they were all ready to go.

"Have you ridden much?" Robert asked the boy as they set off.

"I don't know," Quinlan said quietly.

"Either you've ridden or you haven't. How do you not know?" Robert replied with a frown.

"I know how to ride, but I don't know how I know. I haven't ridden a horse since I first went to the orphanage when I was six."

"Oh I see," Robert said even though he really didn't. "Did you enjoy your music lesson?"

"Yes, Aunt Lillian loaned me a flute."

"Quinlan sings really good, Grandpapa," Sybil said as she came up beside them.

"Sings well, not sings really good," Robert corrected.

Quinlan had turned bright red at the praise.

"Come on Quinlan, I want to show you my favorite hiding spot," Peter called from up ahead.

"Excuse me, Sir," Quinlan said with a smile as he quickened his mount's pace to catch up to Peter.

"How was the ride?" Kieran asked as Quinlan came in the door at lunchtime. Kieran had been dawdling over lunch in the hopes his son would return.

"It was fun. Can I come to the garage later?"

"Just fun?" Lorna asked.

"Peter and Alice were nice. Sybil's other Grandfather came along."

"What did he have to say?" Kieran questioned cautiously.

"Not much. He asked me if I liked to ride and if I liked my music lesson. I'm going to go get changed. I'm hungry."

"You can come to the garage when your Ma says you can," Kieran said to Quinlan's retreating back.

"He seems happy," Lorna said.

"Or indifferent. I need to get back to work."

Mr. and Mrs. Kieran Branson knocked on the front door of Downton Abbey promptly at six p.m. that evening.

"I can't believe I'm using the front door of this place," Kieran grumbled.

"Kieran, behave yourself. It's for our son."

"Mr. Barrow, how are things," Kieran said when Thomas Barrow opened the front door.

"Fine thank you, Mr. Branson, may I take your hat?"

Kieran rolled his eyes.

"Kieran!" Lorna hissed as she handed Thomas Barrow her coat.

"Right this way. They're expecting you in the library," Thomas said.

They entered to find Lord Grantham with another man who was wearing a black scholar's robe over his suit and leaning on a walking stick.

"If you could wait outside, Barnstead," Lord Grantham said. "How do you do Mrs. Branson, I don't believe we've met."

"Fine thank you Lord Grantham," Lorna replied.

"I'll cut to the chase," Lord Grantham said once they were all seated.

"I am not pleased that your son was censured because of the family connection with your brother and indirectly with my family, Mr. and Mrs. Branson. My mother has already spoken to the Board of School Trustees and has had the man dismissed. I'm prepared to offer your son a space here with the tutor on staff for the remainder of the school year."

"That's very kind of you Lord Grantham," Lorna said.

"He would be included in the activities with the other children and take his lunch here in the nursery with the other children weekdays. A half day each week is spent at Willowbrook House as you know."

"And what would you expect of him?" Kieran asked regarding Lord Grantham suspiciously.

"He'll be expected to mind his manners and behave and dress in a fashion suitable to this house," Robert replied.

"He could do that," Lorna replied hopefully. Quinlan had brought home a bag full of Liam's outgrown things last night. There had to be something he could wear to come to the Abbey for school.

"Now for the unpleasant topic of money. My son-in-law Mr. Crawley renegotiated Mr. Barnstead's contract this afternoon. You would only be expected to pay the increase in Barnstead's salary. The cost to you would be one pound three per month."

"That seems rather low. What about the riding and all the rest of it? We can't accept charity," Kieran said.

"I'm not offering you charity. I am offering you convenience and keeping my family's name protected. There is no additional cost to the household for riding lessons. The horses, stable and staff already exist whether your son accompanies the others or not. The tutor's position is lucrative with limited time demands. The man was already receiving more than adequate compensation for his labour. The contract has already been negotiated and the difference will be paid whether you accept or not."

"We'll gladly accept," Kieran said. "We'll do anything for our boy."

"Very good," Robert replied. "I'll send Barnstead in. Mr. Barrow will show you out when you are ready to leave."

"Thank you, Lord Grantham, for everything," Lorna said.

"Yes. Thank you," Kieran said rising and extending his hand to Lord Grantham who accepted the gesture slowly.

"I hope I won't regret this," Robert replied.

"You won't. He's a good boy who just needs a little help in the right direction," Kieran replied.

-0-

"Stay together children while we ride through the village and watch out for motorcars," Mr. Lynch the head groom instructed the five children in his charge on a late spring day. The sun was out and the trees were in blossom. The daffodils were blooming and wildflowers danced in the breeze along the lane as they rode. Lady Edith had asked Lynch to bring the children to the cannery that afternoon on their ride for a tour. Billy the junior groom was along to help hold the horses while the grooms waited.

"Mama we're going to the cannery," Sybil said stopping by a very pregnant Lillian who was pushing one pram with Ronan while Nanny was pushing another with the twins along the lane. "Aunty Edith is going to show us how everything works."

"If you don't stop chattering you'll never get there," Lillian said.

"Oh I better hurry," Sybil said when she realized how far behind she was now to the group. "Mr. Lynch said to stay together."

Quinlan and Liam waved to Quinlan's two younger brothers who were busy playing in an old car that had the top down that was parked beside the garage as they passed. Last night Quinlan had finished reading Treasure Island. He'd read the book by himself after Mr. Barnstead had loaned it first to Liam and then to him. He couldn't stop reading even after Ma and Da had told him the second time to put out the light and go to sleep he just had to find out how the story ended.

School was a lot more fun these days. They did lessons and Mr. Barnstead never raised his voice or punished them with a ruler. He did make them stand in the corner if they chattered too much, but it was usually Sybil who got into trouble for talking and the punishment never lasted very long. They acted out plays and went on outings and read books out loud with fascinating stories. Mr. Barnstead even showed them how the sums they were learning could be used to solve real problems and had them do experiments. Quinlan hadn't caught up to Liam yet, but Mr. Barnstead had assured him he would be ready to write for a scholarship to the grammar school in Ripon in another year.

As they passed by the village school, the children were out in the yard for lunchtime break. Quinlan saw the red haired girl by the fence he had sat across from that day when he had told his Da what that school was like. She was one of the few children who had never teased him and today she smiled and waved. Quinlan winked at her and then laughed when she ran off into the playground.

"Mrs. Pierce at the bakeshop," Quinlan said.

"Isn't Mrs. Pierce that wrinkly old lady at the bakeshop who looks like a prune?" Liam asked.

"What does Mrs. Pierce have to do with anything?" Alice asked.

"Nothing. It's just a trick my Da taught me," Quinlan replied.

"That red haired girl likes you," Liam said.

"Are you going to marry her?" Sybil asked.

"Maybe," Quinlan said. "Or maybe I'll marry Alice." _"This flirting thing my Da does works wonders when you don't want anyone to know what your thinking,"_ he thought.

"Ew," Alice exclaimed. "Boys have germs."

"I married Sybil," Peter said seriously.

"You can't be married you're only eight and Sybil is six," Liam said being the older and wiser one.

"Yes we can. We got married last year at my birthday party," Sybil informed him. "It was before you came. I put a lace doily from the drawing room on my head and we got married and then we all played Ring around the Rosy."

"Yes they did, I was there. Teddy Greenview was the minister. He's nine," Alice contributed equally as serious.

"Did you kiss? I don't think you are really married if you don't kiss," Quinlan said every bit as serious as the others.

"Ew," Sybil and Peter exclaimed in unison.

The two grooms were trying their best not to laugh.

"Do you want to all come to the garage after the cannery?" Quinlan invited. "I'll show you the push cart I'm welding for my brothers. I'm going to get my metal work badge at Scouts."

"Alright." "Yes." "Yes, please." Came back as a chorus.

"After we can go to our house for lemonade," Sybil invited. "Only this time we have to be careful the horses don't eat all the flowers."

Edith came out when she saw the group approach.

"Welcome everyone, I hope you're having a nice day," Edith said.

Quinlan dismounted and took of his helmet and gloves.

"Thank you Lady Edith," Quinlan replied. "I'm having a wonderful day." The sun was out, he was in a school class he enjoyed. Next weekend he and Liam were going to a camp out with Scouts and one of the boys had invited him to his birthday party the week after. He had a family that loved him and a room of his own. The scars on his arms were fading and his Ma said when he got a bit older he wouldn't be able to see them all at. He hardly ever had nightmares anymore. He couldn't imagine how his day could possibly get any better.

_the end of section two_


	23. Love and Tears from Ireland - Part I

**Please note this part of the story is rated M. It is still fairly mild though. There is a fair amount of research in this part and based on real events.**

Love and Tears from Ireland Part I

Chapter 30 - Summer Dreams

"_In a few day I'll be seventeen,"_ Sybil Branson thought on a late spring day in 1937. _"And not one kiss yet." _The other girls at school seemed to talk of nothing else but boys and kissing and what it was like. They made it all sound so terribly exciting, although Sybil had a suspicion that none of them had kissed a boy yet either. She had just finished school the day before and now she had two months free before she started nursing school this fall. _"Well, not really free,"_ she admonished herself. Mama and Da had decided once Lilly, Sybil's youngest sister had reached four years old they no longer needed a nanny. Sybil was expected to watch her four younger siblings three days a week during the summer. When she had complained it just wasn't fair, her father had gotten madder than she'd ever seen him and told her off. He had said at her age he was already working six and a half days a week. She was entirely too spoiled and needed to learn to help others instead of herself.

Sybil had felt ashamed of herself. She knew her father's life hadn't always been easy and he still worked long hours to make sure the family was provided for. She really had nothing to complain about. She had four days a week to swim in the pond, ride horses and visit her friends. Her older brother Liam and cousin Quinlan would be home from university in a few days for good. They had become inseparable once Quinlan had joined them for tutoring at Grandpapa's years ago. Where ever Quinlan went Liam was soon to follow and vice versa. Uncle Kieran didn't live in a big house or have a fancy job. Quinlan had worked and written for scholarships to go to a better school. He taught Liam how to weld in the summers. If they weren't at the garage welding or working on cars they were at their house playing music or doing all the things boys do. Most people thought they were brothers even though Quinlan's hair was brown and his shoulders were wider. He was handsome and attracted attention wherever he went. Liam's was blonde, like Mama and he was slightly taller. Liam was so fair Sybil thought he resembled what she imaged an angel would look like. They had let Sybil tag along but all the time they spent with their heads under the hood of a car or tinkering with motorcycles had become rather dull. Peter was often at the garage with them in summers when he wasn't with his father at the brewery.

Her cousin Brody was almost the same age as she was but all he ever talked about were cars, cheese and burping in that order. He had been caught more than once snogging girls behind the village church. Uncle Kieran had just laughed and slapped him on the back while Aunt Lorna had gotten annoyed and made him stay in the house for two weeks each time. Declan was younger than Sybil by two years and all he ever wanted to do was go to the cheese shop to help his Grandad or go fishing. Sybil and Alice usually spent their summers together rather than watch the boys do their annoying boy things.

"It's never going to happen," Sybil complained to Alice two days later while they were sitting in Alice's room at the Abbey looking through a pile of photographs Alice had taken over the winter while she was at nursing school.

"I haven't kissed a boy yet either," Alice said. "I was at that all girls school and this last year I was at nursing training. Papa thinks it will keep me safe." She added with an eye roll. "In six weeks I start nursing school again and I'll be locked up for another year."

Sybil laughed.

"You make it sound like a fate worse than death," she said.

"Just think of the bedpans," Alice said flopping back on her bed and putting her hand to her forehead.

"It can't be that much worse than nappies and I've changed all kinds," Sybil replied. "Da wants me to go to nursing school too. Like my real mother."

"Do you remember your real mother?" Alice asked.

"No, but from her pictures I look just like her."

"I remember mine a bit. She always smelled like cinnamon. I remember sitting on her lap while she brushed my hair, but that's all," Alice said.

"When are Liam and Quinlan getting back?" Alice asked cautiously after a minute passed by.

"Tomorrow," Sybil said. "Mama's sister Elizabeth-Anne is supposed to come with them from London for a week. She's on a break from college, Albert is working with his Papa this summer so he won't be here."

"We should go swimming just the five of us, like we used to," Alice said. "I guess we can invite Elizabeth-Anne as well."

"_But my hair,"_ Sybil mocked imitating Elizabeth-Anne. _"You country folk are so_ _rustic." _The last time her adopted Aunt had been to visit Sybil had gotten fed up with her primping and put a frog in her bed.

"She isn't that bad," Alice laughed.

"I don't know how Liam and Quinlan stand her," Sybil replied. They have been staying with Grandmamma and Grandpapa Davis for four years while they went to university in London. Both boys had wanted to open a shop for selling and repairing motorcycles when they finished grade school, but Da and Uncle Kieran had insisted they get a better education. After a lot of arguing they had finally agreed and had done two years at a university in York then transferred to separate universities in London. Liam had studied business while Quinlan had taken mechanical engineering.

"Liam seems to like her," Alice said.

"Liam likes any girl who talks to him," Sybil said indifferently. "He turns all red when Elizabeth-Anne comes around."

"He's not like Quinlan," Alice said with a sigh. Quinlan had become a terrible flirt like his adopted father. You could never tell what he was really thinking or whom he liked.

"Alice! Do you like Quinlan?" Sybil asked in amazement.

"Maybe!" Alice said rolling on her stomach and giggling.

"Do you think your Papa would allow it?" Sybil asked still a bit shocked.

"I don't know," Alice said. "He's always going on about how the upper class needs to wake up and find jobs especially since the crash and the depression started. Nothing will do but for Peter and I to go to school and have something we can do to earn a living. I don't know what he'd say about a boy I liked. It doesn't matter anyway. Quinlan doesn't like me back."

"How do you know?" Sybil asked wide-eyed.

"He tried to kiss me when we were younger and I threw a ball of mud at him," Alice laughed.

"You didn't!"

"I was only ten at the time," Alice said laughing. "We did have a lot of fun back then didn't we?"

"Yes, I miss Freddie and Charlotte since they moved to Manchester."

"Do you remember how you and Peter always used to pretend you were married?" Alice asked.

"It was just a silly game," Sybil replied. It had been a game that had lasted until Peter went to grammar school and made friends with other boys. They had seen less of each other after that and the game had faded away like so many other childish things. "I had best get back, Mama and Da are going out and I'm to watch the younger ones."

"I'll come with you," Alice said as she reached for a sweater to take along. "Maybe I'll make a play for Liam so Elizabeth-Anne leaves sooner." She joked.

"Oh that would be good," Sybil said with a giggle as they headed for the door. "We should take her on a camp out. It would be ever so funny."

"This summer will be a lark," Alice replied. _"If I can ever get Quinlan to notice me,"_ she added silently.

-0-

"What do you mean, the three of you want to go? You can't take your motorcycles and go on a road trip through Ireland with a peer," Liam's father Tom Branson declared.

Liam looked at his Da with an exasperated expression.

"It's only for two weeks Da. Quinlan and I have all it all figured out. We'll go on the trip and then work on the new motorcycle shop and used car park when we get back. The business plan and everything is in place. What's the difference if we start tomorrow or in two weeks? Besides why shouldn't Peter come with us? He'll drive one of our spare bikes and he never goes by his formal title anyway. He's asking his Da tonight. Quinlan and I can both do any repairs we need while we're over there. We'll stop at pubs or camp out. I want to see the town where I was born. We'll take the ferry to Belfast, drive through the country side and take the ferry back from Dublin."

"It sounds terribly exciting," Sybil piped in. She had come into the office in time to overhear Liam's description of the trip. "I wish I were going."

"Well, your not,' her father retorted then turned back to Liam. "What do you expect to use for money?" Liam knew his Da had a stubborn streak and was extremely pig headed when it came to anything to do with Ireland or his children.

"We both had part time jobs in London at garages while we were at uni. It won't cost that much," Liam replied calmly. "Besides Peter's Da is always looking for new ideas for ale and lager. Peter can do a little research when he's over there."

"Drinking lager in every pub you come to is not research," Tom replied.

"It'll be fun though," Liam retorted.

"You sound like you have it all worked out," his Da replied at last. "You make me wish I was younger. A motorcycle trip through Ireland does sound like a good way to celebrate the end of your school days. All right you won't hear another word against it from me. Good luck convincing my brother or Uncle John though."

After the conversation with their father Liam was heading over to talk to Quinlan. Sybil decided to go with him to welcome Quinlan back and avoid Elizabeth-Anne. She was her usual primping obnoxious self, complaining about the insects in the country and hogging the bathroom endlessly. There hadn't been a drop of hot water left yesterday when Sybil finally got the bathroom to herself for five minutes. Thank goodness she was only staying for ten days.

"I was talking to Alice the other day," Sybil said on the short walk to their cousin's cottage. "She was saying how much fun the five of us used to have when we went to school together."

"It was a good time," Liam replied with a smile. "When I wasn't fretting I was going to be sent away."

"No one would have sent you away," Sybil said giving his arm a shove. "I would have had such a terrible tantrum they would have brought you back in two seconds." She teased. "Besides Mama and Da aren't like that."

"No, but it took me a while to realize that," Liam said.

"We we're thinking we should go swimming like we used to maybe Sunday afternoon. Just us. I guess we'll have to invite Elizabeth-Anne."

"And the younger ones," Liam said. "I haven't seen them much all winter either."

"Do we have to?" Sybil said in exasperation. "Brody will go under the water and make rude noises and Ronan will copy him."

"Maybe I'll make rude noises too," Liam said laughing.

"Now, Liam what would Elizabeth-Anne say?" Sybil said looking at her older brother coyly.

"She'll think I'm rude and leave me alone for once," Liam said laughing.

"Liam! But I thought you liked her," Sybil replied in surprise.

"I tolerated her because I was staying with Grandpappa and Grandmama Davis. I was at school most of the time or working so I hardly saw her. Why would you think I liked her?"

"You always blush whenever she's around."

"My face is red usually because I'm irritated. You don't know much about boys do you?"

"And where am I supposed to learn?" Sybil asked him.

"You're older brother is back now to keep an eye on you so you don't learn from the wrong sources," he said laughing as they arrived at their Aunt and Uncle's cottage.

* * *

Chapter 2 – Pests and Other Annoying Insects

"You can't expect me to ride in a car with that many children in it," Elizabeth-Anne complained on Sunday. Peter and Alice and Quinlan had arrived separately on two motorcycles.

"Brody will drive the car," Liam said calmly. "We'll all take our motorbikes and double. That leaves four younger ones with you and Brody in the car. There's lots of room."

"Then I'll go with you," Elizabeth-Anne sniffed.

"No, I promised Sybil," Liam brushed her off. He had promised Sybil no such thing but Elizabeth-Anne didn't need to know that.

"And I'm going with Quinlan," Alice announced suddenly. She went over and got on the back of Quinlan's bike.

"I thought you were afraid of motorcycles," Quinlan said quietly.

"I'm getting over it," Alice replied sticking her nose in the air.

Quinlan just shrugged in response.

"Honor is coming with me," Peter announced. He had no desire to take the barracuda as they had nick named her with him either.

Thirteen-year-old Honor let out a squeal and ran over to jump onto Peter's motorbike and wrap her arms around his waist tightly.

"Not too tight, I still need to breath," Peter said.

"Sorry," Honor replied loosening her grip slightly.

"That leaves room in the car," Liam said turning back to Elizabeth-Anne. "Take it or leave it."

"Oh very well," she replied going over and getting in the front beside Brody.

"I'll be the first one there," Brody called out the window as he punched the accelerator before Elizabeth-Anne had the door completely closed.

"Like h…No you won't," his older brother Quinlan called catching himself before he swore. He took off with Alice hanging onto him for dear life.

"He thinks he can beat me. We're taking that old riding trail. We'll beat him easily."

"Quinlan, that trail is overgrown," she screamed into his back where she had her face pressed.

"What?"

"I said that trail is overgrown," she screamed finally lifting her head.

"We can make it," he yelled.

It was only a few minutes and the branches where smacking against them and weeds tearing at their legs as they tore by.

"Quinlan that hurts," Alice screamed.

Quinlan just threw back his head and laughed. The emerged through the trees then tore across the meadow to stop beside the pond where they planned to go swimming.

"We made it first," Quinlan declared with a huge grin.

"Quinlan that wasn't funny," Alice said crossly. "I'm all dirty and look at the twigs in my hair."

"I'm sorry Alice," he said properly chastised. He got off the bike once she had dismounted. He started pulling the tree bits from her hair. "I wasn't thinking."

"That's just the problem. You don't think," she replied.

"What do you mean I don't think?" he asked.

"Nothing. I don't want to talk about it," she replied, going over beside the pond to take off her top clothes and lay out her towel. "I'm going swimming and get the mud off before everyone sees me like this."

Quinlan had been about to follow her into the water and find out exactly what she meant when the rest of the swimming party pulled up.

"What's with you?" Liam asked as he brought the bike to rest beside Quinlan and switched off the engine.

"Nothing," Quinlan said watching Alice where she was splashing around in the pond.

"Doesn't look like nothing."

"I drove through the bushes and got her all dirty," Quinlan said sourly.

"You are such an idiot," Sybil said shaking her head in disgust before she hopped off the back of Liam's motorcycle and headed over to drop her things beside Alice's.

"I'll second that sentiment," Liam said with a crooked grin.

"Oh shut up," Quinlan said before he shucked off his clothes and joined the rest of the group in the water.

After a half hour of splashing the older group found themselves laying on towels drying off in the sun while the younger boys got out their fishing poles and moved a bit further down the pond to try their luck. The group of four younger girls wandered off into the meadow to pick wildflowers and make chains.

Elizabeth-Anne was perfectly posed on her towel having refused to go in the water with the others.

"When are you leaving on your trip?" Sybil asked.

"Tuesday," Peter replied. "We'll get the supplies together and packed tomorrow."

Quinlan winked at Alice and blew her a kiss. She immediately threw a handful of grass at him and rolled onto her stomach so she couldn't see him.

"I was thinking," Sybil said slowly. "Maybe I could go with you."

"You can't come with us, Sybil," Quinlan said suddenly serious and distracted from his flirting. "One girl with three men wouldn't be proper."

"It wouldn't be just me," Sybil replied in disgust. "Alice could come too."

"What!" Alice said forgetting her annoyance with Quinlan's attempts at flirting and suddenly sitting up.

"Oh come on Alice. It would be fun. We never go anywhere. The grown ups talk all the time about how they traveled when they were young and where have we been? We go to London and back. We spend all summer doing the same things over and over. You said just the other day you were feeling cooped up. Now's our chance."

"How could you possible want to travel around on a motorcycle getting bugs in your hair for two weeks," Elizabeth-Anne said. "Especially to Ireland of all places. It's such an uncivilized place."

Liam's face started to turn red. Sybil knew this time it out of anger.

"Since Quinlan and myself were born there and so were our fathers, I hardly think it is an uncivilized place," he said. "And furthermore if my sister wants to come with me, who happens to be the granddaughter of an Earl and the daughter of a peer who lived in Dublin for a period, she should come with us. Besides Peter over there is a peer himself and he's coming, so put that in your pipe and smoke it."

"Well, I never," Elizabeth-Anne said.

"Well, I never either," Liam said jumping to his feet and scooping Elizabeth-Anne up in his arms. He carried her into the water kicking and screaming before he dropped her in. He waded out of the water and back up onto the shore.

"If you want to come, you can ride with me," Quinlan said to Alice still looking annoyed. He had been just as mad as Liam. If Liam hadn't thrown Elizabeth-Anne in the water Quinlan would have done it himself. "I'm a better driver than your brother and I won't pull any stunts." He glanced over his shoulder at Elizabeth Anne just wading out of the pond. "Meanwhile I think she needs a ride back to the house via one of our old riding trails." He turned back to Alice and winked at her. This time Alice gave him a smile in return.

"Do you mean it? Can we come?" Sybil asked.

"If you can convince all our parents, you can come," Liam replied. "Just don't count your chickens."

"It won't be a luxurious trip," Quinlan said.

"We've both camped out enough times when we were Girl Guides. We can handle it," Alice said as she saw Elizabeth-Anne approaching.

"That was so rude," Elizabeth-Anne complained as she picked up her towel and started drying herself off.

"I'm ever so sorry, I don't know what came over us," Quinlan said turning on the charm. "Here take my towel. Would you like me to drive you back to the house?"

"I don't want to stay out here another minute," Elizabeth-Anne stated angrily.

"I know a shortcut, you might enjoy. It's quite charming and romantic," Quinlan said as he put his arm around her back. He was busy pouring out the compliments and charm.

"One second," he said once he had Elizabeth-Anne waiting beside his motorbike. He dashed back over to whisper something to Alice then went to rejoin Elizabeth-Anne.

"I think you'll quite enjoy this," he said before he started his motorbike and held out a hand to help Elizabeth-Anne to get on the back. He let out a wild whoop as he popped the clutch and tore off across the field.

"What did he say?" Sybil whispered to Alice once they were gone.

"He said he was sorry he got me all dirty and wondered if I would go for a walk with him when he gets back," Alice whispered back. Just then the girls came over and dropped a daisy chain around each of their necks.

"Time to swim and scare away the fish some more," Peter said jumping to his feet and racing to the water with the pack of four younger girls right behind him.

"Who am I to argue?" Liam said as he tore into the water behind him.

"Sybil have you lost your senses. We can't ride around on motorcycles for two weeks through Ireland," Alice hissed.

"Why not? If our brothers can do it so can we," she replied sticking out her chin stubbornly before she went to join everyone else in the pond.

"Oh, why do I listen to you," Alice grumbled under her breath as she ran into the water behind the others.

Quinlan returned in less than twenty minutes looking quite pleased with himself.

"How did our dear Elizabeth-Anne enjoy the ride?" Liam asked with a chuckle.

"She was so appreciative she hit me with her towel before she went in the house," Quinlan said with a grin. "On a more serious note, are you two really serious about coming with us?"

"I think so," Alice replied. "Only my father is so overprotective it will be hard to convince him."

"Leave the convincing up to me," Sybil said. "Besides it will be like old times with just the five of us."

"Not exactly like old times," Quinlan replied before he offered Alice his hand. "Let's go for a walk."

"We're coming too," Aideen, Branna and Lilly chimed in.

"Aren't you coming Honor?" Aideen asked.

"No, I'm going to stay here and make Liam look beautiful," Honor said. She was busy sticking buttercups in Liam's hair. "Peter is next."

"Oh no, he is not," Peter retorted.

Sybil was busy making a daisy chain that she promptly plopped on the top of Peter's head.

"There the future Earl of Westerfield is anointed with a crown," she declared laughing. "You look like the prince of the fairies."

"I'll show you who's a fairy prince," Peter said laughing and wrestling her into the water.

-0-

"Why are you going to Ireland, Quinlan and don't tell me sightseeing," Alice asked. The younger girls were busy running around picking a bouquet of wild flowers and pushing them into Alice's hands to hold.

"Why do you think there's a reason?" Quinlan hedged.

"Because under that excessively flirtatious, daredevil exterior you usually have a reason for everything," Alice replied fiddling with the flowers in her hands.

"What do you want me to say?"

"I want the truth, not that glib chatter you use to divert attention from the topic at hand."

"You know me well," Quinlan said with a slight laugh. "OK here it is. I want to see what I can find out about where I came from. It might not be pretty, but I'd like to know something, no matter how small or painful it is."

"What if you find a family?" Alice asked. "What then?"

"I have a family right here. That isn't going to change."

"Why didn't you say all that in the first place?" Alice asked.

"Because everyone wants to see the boy that made something of himself. The one who worked hard and got a degree in mechanical engineering. No one wants to hear about the boy who couldn't read and was sent out to work when he was seven years old or the one who cried himself to sleep every night for years."

"Maybe you misjudge people," Alice said quietly.

"Do I? So what were the elocution lessons for? Aunt Lillian gave them to me once a week like clockwork for years. There isn't a trace of a rough edge left on my accent. It's just another masquerade."

"I had those lessons too. It doesn't mean anything. It's part of who she is and she means well."

"There now you look like a bride," Lilly declared once Alice's hands were full.

"And who am I to marry?" she asked laughing.

"Liam," the girls all said at once.

"What about me?" Quinlan said.

"Liam makes better sandwiches than you," Aideen informed him.

"He does, does he? I'll have to catch you and put you in a sandwich," Quinlan said starting to chase them.

Alice just laughed and joined in the chase as they headed back towards the group.

* * *

Chapter 32 – Into the Lion's Den

"What did you lot do to Elizabeth-Anne?" Tom Branson asked his children when they got home late Sunday afternoon. He was in the yard changing the oil on the late model motorcycle he used around the estate. His old one had practically rattled itself into a pile of nuts and bolts after over ten years of use. "She took the train back to London."

"It wasn't _us lot_, Da," Lilly said. "Liam dumped her in the pond and Quinlan took her for a ride on his motorbike."

"Liam was mad. His face was all red," Branna commented.

"Like a tomato," Aideen added.

Their father regarded Liam thoughtfully for a second. Liam had more patience than anyone he'd ever met. His younger siblings and cousins constantly poked, prodded and drug him around this way and that and he never got angry or lost patience with them. Elizabeth-Anne must have done or said something to get him riled up.

"Can't say I'm sorry she's gone," their father said glancing toward the house to make sure his wife hadn't overheard.

Sybil and Liam where busy giving each other a look that said, "You ask." Finally Sybil took a step forward.

"Da, you know how Mama went to Paris in the summer to study music on her own when she was my age?"

"Yes," her father replied not really listening that closely.

"And grandmamma is always telling me about the trips my real mother made when she was young to America and the Continent and Scotland."

"Yes, your point being?"

"If I had the opportunity to go on a trip, shouldn't I take it?"

"Sybil what are you trying to get at?" Tom said finally setting his tools down and wiping his hands on a rag.

"Alice and I…want to go with Liam to Ireland," she said in a rush.

"You are not going traipsing around Ireland with a pack of boys," her father stated.

"But Da, I haven't seen Gran in ages, and I would finally get to see where you're from. I wouldn't be going with a pack of boys. Liam is my brother and Quinlan might as well be. I've known Peter for years and Alice would come. Oh please Da, it's only for two weeks and I'll watch the children five days a week for the rest of the summer."

"What's in it for you?" Tom asked looking at Liam.

"Company and two more to share expenses," Liam replied. "We'd take good care of them."

"Where do you plan to get the money?" Tom asked Sybil.

"I was going to withdraw a bit from my allowance. I might have enough money in my coin bank. I hardly ever spend any," Sybil said cringing a bit.

"I want you to figure out exactly what your share of the expenses would be and have a concrete plan for this adventure to me tonight. Then I'll consider it," their father said.

"Oh thank you Daddy," Sybil said reverting to her old childhood name for him.

"Don't thank me yet. I haven't said yes and Uncle John and Aunt Edith and Uncle Kieran and Aunt Lorna would have to agree as well as your Mama."

"One set of parents down, two more to go," Sybil said to Liam two hours later when they had worked out an itinerary and estimate of expenses for the trip through Ireland. Sybil had always been a bit of a tight wad and had enough notes stuffed in her coin bank to cover her share of the trip if they stayed on a tight budget.

She had cajoled and pleaded and finally got her parents to agree as long as the other two sets of parents agreed as well. They decided to try Uncle Kieran and Aunt Lorna next. After a phone call to Alice and Peter to meet them in the village in ten minutes, Liam and Sybil set off for Quinlan's.

"If we agree to this, you two will keep your hands off 'em," Uncle Kieran said looking from Quinlan to Liam.

"We have two tents, Da," Quinlan said in disgust. "Boys in one, girls in the other. Besides what do you take us for?"

"Young men sewing your wild oats," Kieran shot back.

"Uncle Kieran, we'd both have our brother's with us. Nothing untoward is going to happen," Sybil said.

"The road to hell is paved with good intentions," Kieran replied stubbornly.

"Quinlan can you promise us you won't lay a finger on either of them?" his mother asked.

"I'll have to touch them to help them get on and off my motorbike, Ma," he said with a crooked grin.

"That's not what I meant and you know it," Sybil's Aunt said.

"Ma, I wouldn't do anything improper with either of them. Besides their brother's would kill me first," Quinlan replied. Both of the other boys nodded.

"Fine then you have our permission," Quinlan's father said.

-0-

"Into the lion's den," Quinlan muttered as they entered the doors of Downton Abbey. The Abbey had changed in the years since he had first gone there to be tutored. There were no longer butlers and footmen waiting on every whim or ladies maids and valets traipsing through the corridors and bedrooms. The crash in 1929 had put an end to the decadent lifestyle of twenty years before and the ensuing depression had dealt a further deathblow. The estate had survived intact since the capital was invested in the land and not speculation, but the economics of the time had driven change and now there was a cleaning staff of six from the village that came in weekdays and only a live in housekeeper who answered the door or made arrangements for guests.

They group headed upstairs to a sitting room Alice and Peter's parents often used in the evenings.

"No, definitely not," John Harris said. "I'm not having my daughter go off on some hair brained adventure."

"You're allowing Peter," Alice replied calmly. "Do you think he's being hair brained?" She knew her father well enough to know he could be talked into almost anything given enough time and if Mama thought he was stopping her from doing something solely because she was a girl she would have an instant ally.

"You're right we did travel extensively when we were young girls," Edith said calmly to her niece and stepdaughter. "But we were accompanied by a governess."

"We'll be with our brothers," Alice said. "Peter is going to look for samples of different types of beer and ale to send back. We'll be traveling in the country. We might find some different preserves or something else that could be of use in the business."

"Uncle John, we have an itinerary and a cost list worked out," Sybil said. "And all the boys have promised to behave. We've always spent time together, why shouldn't we continue to do so."

"I still don't like it. Besides it sounds like you're planning to stay in third rate establishments," he said still not quite ready to give in.

"We're planning to camp out. I'll put a sidecar on my bike for our gear," Liam said. "We'll stay at village pubs similar to the Grantham Arms every two or three days so everyone can get cleaned up. We'll stay with Gran in Dublin and Quinlin's mother has family in Amagh. The only place we'll need to stay in a hotel is Belfast and we'll make sure we're in a better part of town."

"You seem to have all the answers," John replied knowing when he was beaten. "Tom and Lillian have agreed as well as Quinlan's parents?"

There was a round of head nods.

"The girls will be with family and neither of them has traveled much," Edith said touching her husband's arm in way of encouragement.

"Yes, you may go," John said at last.

The two girls let out a squeal.

"With conditions," he added. "You send a cable when you get to Belfast, then one every few days so we know you're fine."

"Oh thank you, Papa," Alice said rushing over to give her father a kiss on the cheek.

"Don't thank me yet. You still haven't left," John said with a chuckle. "The way you pack, the boys might chuck you at the last minute when they see all the things you want to bring."

"I'm not that bad," Alice said laughing.

"Oh really?" her father said with a knowing smile.

The travelers all piled into the library at the Abbey to make their plans and a list of who was bringing what. Lord and Lady Grantham had gone to London to visit with Aunt Rosamund so they had the room to themselves.

"OK, that's it," Liam said an hour later. "We meet at our house tomorrow morning and we pack."

-0-

"Alice you can't bring that rucksack full of clothes. There's no room for it," Quinlan stated the next day.

"I told her that," Peter commented dryly.

"What am I going to wear? We're going for two weeks," Alice said in alarm.

"I just brought a dress, two changes of trousers and two blouses, plus unmentionables," Sybil replied. She was a bit of a tomboy at times.

"This is how much room you have," Liam said handing Alice a saddlebag that would go on Peter's bike. "That's all you get, tooth brush, clothing and whatever else you want to bring. It's more space than the rest of us are getting."

Alice made a bit of a face then went to Sybil's room with her to repack her things.

"Sybil you can't put my swimming costume to the side. What are we going to wear if we go swimming?" Alice whispered.

"Our underclothes. We've gone swimming with them in our underclothes before."

"Not since these," Alice said pointing to her chest.

"Your brassiere covers as much as your swimming costume probably more," Sybil said feigning indifference. She was a little nervous at the idea of swimming in her underclothes with a group of men herself but she wasn't about to tell Alice that and spook her at the last minute.

"Papa gave me a long lecture last night about men and maintaining my virtue," Alice said rolling her eyes. "I'll probably get another one tonight."

"Mine was no better," Sybil replied with a giggle. "You'd think we lead a wild life kissing boys behind the church every Sunday."

"Going with a group of boys on a motorcycle trip is kind of wild," Alice said giggling.

"I know!" Sybil replied with a giggle. "Isn't it exciting!"

Before Quinlan left home the next morning his parent's took him to the side.

"Whatever you find in Ireland, don't be disappointed," his father said.

"I won't. I doubt there is much to find," he replied.

"Remember how much we love you," his mother said. "Come home safe."

"I love you too, Ma. I'm not going for a year. It's only a couple weeks."

"We can't help but worry," Lorna said.

His father hugged him.

"Maybe you'll finally get a kiss or two out of that toff girl you've been mooning over all these years," his Da said quietly so his mother couldn't hear.

"Da!"

His father, Kieran just laughed and slapped him on the back before he stepped back to rejoin his wife.

"It's a good thing we left the traveling road show at the hotel," Sybil commented two days later when they were standing outside the gates to the Belfast Hospital that had taken over the workhouse building where Liam and Quinlan had been adopted. They had nicknamed the motorcycles the traveling road show from all the stares they got as they traveled to the ferry. Every inch of the sidecar was stuffed with camping supplies. All of the bikes had saddlebags and rolls tied to the handlebars and across the back of Peter's.

Sybil glanced over at Liam and Quinlan to see a white line had formed around Quinlan's mouth. Liam was sweating slightly and it wasn't a warm day. Alice had taken one of Quinlan's hands in both of hers. Sybil slid her arm through her brother's.

"Let's do this," Quinlan finally said through gritted teeth.

They went to the main desk at the hospital and inquired where the records from the children's workhouse were kept. The woman directed them to the basement of the old building. When they got to the door Quinlan had to stop and take some deep breathes. He was visibly shaking. Liam looked like he was going to pass out. The others looked at the building in awe. It was an imposing sight, with barred windows and stonewalls. It was in such stark contrast to her own happy childhood Sybil felt herself cringing inwardly.

"I'll go in and inquire," Peter offered. "You don't have to do this, either of you."

"Yes, I do," Quinlan said straightening up. "I control this place now, it doesn't control me. I want my files and whatever records they have and they're going to give them to me."

They all headed in. Just before Sybil entered with Liam she said quietly," I overheard Mama tell Da once that Uncle Kieran went a little crazy when he came to this place."

"We were all just damn lucky he did," Liam replied as he held the door for her.

* * *

Chapter 33 – Echoes from the Past

"I'll check the records Mr. Branson, but there might be little to go on. There often isn't much," the lady at the desk said.

"Whatever you can tell me would be helpful," Quinlan replied.

The woman checked one register.

"Here is the record of your adoption. It's usually best to start there. Quinlan O'Callaghan, Brody O'Maley, Declan O'Maley and Honor O'Maley all adopted in full by one Mr. Kieran Branson of Downton, Yorkshire, England."

"That is my father and my brothers and sister."

"The file number is somewhat faded," the woman said. "It can take two or three tries at times to find the right file. Wait here, please." She went off into rows and rows of filing cabinets.

"I feel like I want to be sick," Alice said quietly. "All of those files for children that had to stay here." It made a shiver run up her spine.

"Mama says there are still places like this," Sybil said quietly. "They've dressed them up but they still treat the children horribly." Liam had slid an arm around his sister and pulled her close, as much for his own comfort as his.

The woman returned with a file folder. "I'm afraid there is not much, Mr. Branson." She opened the folder. "We have your birth certificate here. Born January 14, 1915."

"What? That can't be right. I'm twenty-three not twenty-two," Quinlan said in bewilderment. "I can't be a year younger than I thought."

"I'm quite sure this is the correct file, Mr. Branson. Quinlan O'Callaghan adopted by a Mr. Kieran Branson. Natural parents, Miren O'Callaghan deceased February 3, 1921. Father Seamus O'Callaghan deceased sometime in 1918 it doesn't give any details I'm afraid."

"Does it say where I came from or where my parents lived?" Quinlan inquired.

"Nothing further on your parents. She pointed to a spot on the paper Quinlan was holding. "If you look on the certificate of birth you were born in County Antrim." She looked back at the file. "Transferred here from St. Stephens School for Boys near Ballyclaire, February 20, 1921."

"Is there anything else?" Quinlan asked.

"No, I'm afraid not," the woman answered.

"Thank you, you've been very helpful," Quinlan said. "It's more than I had before."

"I'd like to inquire about my sisters' adoption," Liam said. "Our mother was told there were no family records or record of mother's name at the time of their adoption. Could you please check?"

The woman went through the record check again for Branna and Aideen but came up with almost nothing.

"Mother's name unknown. Found on the street unconscious and taken to hospital. Never regained consciousness. Twin daughter's held in custody six weeks then released to the workhouse. No one ever came forward to claim the mother's body or the children."

"Thank you for checking," Liam replied.

"Everyone ready for a trip to Ballyclaire?" Quinlan asked when they got outside and were heading away from the hospital grounds.

"Not until we've had some lunch," Alice replied.

"I don't want lunch I want to go to that school," Quinlan replied irritably.

"You look like you're going to pass out," Peter said. "Lunch and then we collect our kit and head north."

Quinlan only nodded as he pushed his hands further into his pockets. The trip back to that place had been harder than he ever thought it would be.

It was late afternoon by the time they made it to Ballyclaire and almost another hour before they were able to find the St. Stephens School.

"Did you notice the sign when we came on the grounds?" Peter asked Liam quietly.

"No, not particularly," Liam replied.

"The school is Protestant," Peter said.

"Holy Christ," Liam replied shaking his head. "This is a Protestant area but I never thought any of us were. Quinlan's parents had them all baptized after they were adopted but still."

Liam glanced over to see Quinlan was talking to Alice by his motorcycle. Alice had her hand on his arm in a reassuring gesture.

"Lets get this done then find somewhere for the night. It looks like it's going to rain," Liam said.

Quinlan inquired at the desk, then they all took a seat in the waiting area. Eventually a headmaster came out and asked him to come in. Liam went with him while the others sat and waited. After about ten minutes, Quinlan strode out the door without a backwards glance. Liam thanked the man for his time then joined the others who were on their feet and waiting for him.

"He's in a bit of rough shape. We need to get somewhere for the night and let him digest things," Liam said.

They found a small pub near the market square, took two rooms and stored their motorcycles and gear in a lean to around back.

"I'll take the floor tonight," Peter offered. Quinlan still wasn't saying much. He just nodded his acceptance.

"Quinlan is there anything I can do?" Sybil asked him once they had moved their gear up the rooms.

"There's not a damn thing anyone can do, but thanks," Quinlan replied giving his cousin a quick hug.

They had a quick pub dinner then headed back upstairs. The girls had lead a much too sheltered life to be hanging out in a pub and Sybil was well underage.

"I'm going to ask him to go for a walk," Alice said once she and Sybil were alone.

"It's starting to rain," Sybil replied.

"We'll borrow an umbrella from the barkeep."

"I read somewhere that it rains in this area a great deal," Alice said conversationally once she and Quinlan were walking down the street arm in arm, both huddled under the umbrella as best they could.

"It's Ireland. It always rains," Quinlan replied with a derisive laugh.

"What do you have planned for tomorrow? Are we staying here or moving on?"

"I've a few more inquiries to make, then we'll get out of here as fast as we can and head over to where Liam was born. He wants to visit his parents graves."

"I hope it stops raining by then," Alice said non-committedly.

They were under an awning that had been left up and came out from under the umbrella for a few minutes.

"Aren't you going to ask me what happened?" Quinlan inquired.

"No. If you want to tell the rest of us you will," Alice replied gently.

"Alice…I. I don't know what to say or where to start," Quinlan said finally.

"Start with the facts. Remember Mr. Barnstead. He would always say start with the facts and you can't go wrong."

"I had forgotten him saying that," Quinlan replied. "Let's walk towards the bridge. They stepped back into the rain that had slowed considerably. "When my mother died. The school contacted my grandfather on my mother's side. He refused to assume custody and I was sent to the workhouse when the tuition funds ran out."

"Oh my. I'm so sorry, Quinlan," Alice replied. "It's horrible. How could anyone do that to a little child?"

"I don't know. I couldn't imagine my family now ever doing something like that."

"No. They wouldn't. None of us would."

They had reached a small bridge in the town and stopped near the center.

"The worst of it is, I feel abandoned all over again. Some of it doesn't make any sense. I was younger than I should have been at that school. Why was I sent to school a year early? And why can't I remember anything?"

"You might never find out," Alice replied lying her hand over his where he was holding the umbrella. "You knew these inquiries could open old wounds."

Quinlan nodded.

"Do you feel like getting a drink?" he asked. "I could use one about now."

"I might if you make me a promise."

"What's that?" he asked.

"If you promise not to flirt with any of the girls in the pub except me," Alice said with a serious expression.

"I could do that," Quinlan said slipping an arm around her as they started walking back towards the pub they were staying at. "You look very pretty walking in the rain," Quinlan said with a wink and a crooked smile slipping back into his flirting demeanor.

"Are you flirting with me, Quinlan Branson," Alice inquired flirting back and batting her lashes at him.

"Yes, I am and starting to enjoy myself more every second," Quinlan replied.

"And what would you do if I flirted with you?" Alice asked teasing him.

"Die of happiness," Quinlan said starting to get into their game of words.

"And what if I asked you if a kiss would make you feel better?" Alice said sliding him a sideways glance under her lashes.

"You aren't going to throw mud at me this time are you?" Quinlan said suddenly serious.

"That was years ago. I can't believe you remembered that."

"It's one of those things you remember when the only girl you've ever tried to kiss throws mud in your face."

"Quinlan Branson, you are such a liar," Alice said. "You flirt with every girl you come across."

"I just don't kiss everyone," he replied quietly. They had come to the entrance of the pub and it had stopped raining. He closed the umbrella and leaned forward until his lips were a hairs breath from hers. "Alice Harris would you do me the honor of kissing an orphaned boy from Belfast."

"I'd kiss an Irish boy from a good family in Yorkshire who likes motorcycles any day he asks," she replied before his lips touched hers in a soft kiss. He drew back slightly after the first tentative kiss and smiled before he kissed her again with a little more passion. By the third kiss they were clinging together oblivious to passersby until someone opened the door to the pub and the noise poured out onto the street.

"We should go in. Do you still want a drink?" Alice asked while he was still placing small kisses along her mouth.

"No. I want to do this all night long."

"Quinlan, we have to behave. We promised our parents."

"Promises are made to be broken," he teased.

"Quinlan, I'm going in now," Alice said still not moving.

Finally he sighed and stepped back ever so slightly.

"Time to go in then?"

"Yes and time to take everyone upstairs a drink."

It didn't take long to track down Quinlan's maternal grandfather the next day. They went to his house and were turned away.

"Tell the old bastard I want a picture of my mother. He can at least give me that much," Quinlan yelled at the man at the door. "You hear me you old prick. I want to know what my parent's looked like."

"Quinlan calm down," Liam said pulling him back from the door by the arm. "This isn't getting us anywhere."

Peter had slipped in between them to talk to the man at the door and slipped him a five pound note. The door closed and a few minutes later reopened. The servant handed Peter a framed picture before looking both ways and shutting the door. Peter walked over to Quinlan and handed him the picture before squeezing his shoulder and walking back to his motorcycle without a word. Quinlan slowly looked at the picture in his hands before the tears started running down his face. Alice went to him and slid her arms around his waist while he stood there and started to really sob.

"We'll meet you at the end of the lane," Liam said quietly before they started their bikes and left Quinlan and Alice to deal with his emotional turmoil on their own.

"Ma," he sobbed. "I remember. I remember Ma."

"Hush darling. It will be ok," she soothed. "Let's go. There is nothing else here for us. Your real family is at home. We'll send them a cable and let them all know we're fine later." She pulled out a hanky and wiped the tearstains from his cheeks. "Your family loves you and so do I. Only a fool wouldn't see how wonderful and talented you are."

Quinlan placed the picture of his mother in the saddlebags then started the bike. He held Alice's hand while she got on. She glanced up to see a curtain flutter as they pulled away from the house. She hugged Quinlan a little tighter than normal as they rejoined the rest of the group. No wonder Quinlan's father said he had no desire to visit Northern Ireland again. All they had found so far was a great deal of pain.

* * *

Chapter 34 – Farm Stay

"Do you want to head toward Cookstown or find somewhere to camp?" Liam asked when Quinlan and Alice finally caught up.

"I wouldn't mind taking a break," Sybil said.

"Let's find somewhere to camp. I didn't sleep a wink with all the racket at the pub last night," Peter said.

Quinlan just shrugged indifferently. He had put on his dark glasses to cover the red in his eyes.

"Then we look for somewhere to camp," Liam said. He knew Quinlan was in no condition for a long drive. They needed to find somewhere quiet to recharge themselves after the two days of emotional upheaval. Right now he was thanking providence the girls were with them and Alice seemed to be a calming influence on his cousin.

They had been driving about half an hour when the spotted a farm with a cluster of barns and buildings. Peter pointed to the farm and they took the lane up to the farmhouse. Liam did the talking as Quinlan was in no mood when the farmer came out to see what they wanted. He was an older man of about sixty.

"Hello," Liam greeted. "We were just driving by and looking for a place to camp. Would you have a pasture or loft we could stay over in?"

"Might do, might do," the farmer replied. "What's your business in these parts?"

"My sister and I and our cousins are looking up family in the area. We thought we'd take a tour holiday while we visit relations. My cousins and I are handy. We're all decent mechanics and my cousin over there is a welder. We could do some chores or a few jobs in payment for your hospitality," Liam said.

"Well, I'll have to take you up on that. Lot's to do this time of year. What's your name?"

"Branson. I'm Liam, that's Quinlan, Sybil, Peter and Alice. We were looking up a long lost relation by the name of O'Callaghan."

"Well, now that's a name I haven't heard around these parts in years," the farmer replied. "The name's Micheal Doyle. You can call me Mick. Come along I'll show you where you can bunk. A welder you say? I got a couple pieces of machinery need welding. The shop is over there. You get settled in then I'll show you what needs doing. Sounds like a fair trade off to me."

He showed them to a barn that had a loft still a third full of straw from last year.

"You can park your machines, down below and bunk up there," Mick said.

"Do you have any other chores that need doing?" Peter asked.

Mick did a double take at the sound of Peter's English accent.

"Our father's are all Irish," Liam said thinking quickly. "Quinlan and I over there were born and raised part way in Ireland, the others were raised in England. Da and his brothers went for the work you know."

"Quite so, yes. Lots in these parts do that," Mick said. "Welding's all the payment I need. Would cost me a pretty penny to get someone out here to do the work. I can't see well enough to do it myself no more."

Sybil and Alice rolled their eyes behind the old man's back.

"Now come along and I'll show you around a bit. Privy's over there," he gestured towards one of the buildings. "Clean water from the tap in the barn there, and over here's the shop."

"You got the torch and the kit?" Quinlan asked. Sybil and Alice both jumped slightly. Quinlan had changed his voice to a perfect imitation of his father Kieran's accent.

"Yes, yes, it's all here. Broke the harrow and the hitch on the plow. Think you can fix it?"

"Won't take long," Quinlan replied. "What do you remember of the O'Callaghans?"

"Tragic story that, but Mother would know more than me. You all come up to the house for supper at five. You can ask her then?"

The three men set to work doing the repairs the old man wanted while Sybil and Alice went back to the barn and began toting the sleeping bags up to the loft and filled a container with water for face washing.

"You and Quinlan seem pretty cozy," Sybil commented.

Alice came closer to Sybil so she could whisper. "I finally got a kiss."

"Oh," Sybil said her eyes going wide. "How was it? Was it what you thought it would be?"

"Better," Alice said giggling. "And I got more than one."

"What would your father say? What would my father say if he knew one of us kissed one of them?" Sybil said her eyes round.

"Nothing because they aren't going to find out," Alice said flipping her hair.

"Alice that's wicked," Sybil said giggling. "What are you going to do when you get home?"

"Hopefully, he'll be my beau and Papa will accept it. We haven't talked about it. Quinlan's too upset."

"Let's hope Mrs. Doyle has some information that will help," Sybil commented.

They trotted into the house promptly at five with a chunk of the cheese they had brought from home.

"Well, isn't that kind of you," Mrs. Doyle said. It was early summer and fresh vegetables on a farm were rather sparse at this time of year. The supper Mrs. Doyle had prepared consisted of potatoes, potatoes and yet another dish that was a version of potatoes. Sybil had thought everything she heard about Irish people eating lots of potatoes was a myth since no one in her family ate more than a few at a meal if that. They were seated at a table with the Doyles and five of their farm hands.

"Now who was it exactly you were looking for?" Mrs. Doyle asked once they were all seated and had food on their plates.

"Any information you might know about Miren and Seamus O'Callaghan we could tell our Gran would set her mind at rest," Quinlan lied. "We think Seamus died around 1918 and his wife a little later around 1921. Seamus was the son of an old friend of our Grans."

"Well from what I remember it was a hard story right from the start," Mrs. Doyle said. "Her father was wealthy and hard hearted. Owned a coalmine. You know the type."

Everyone nodded his or her head in agreement.

"She met and fell in love with a captain of a steamship. Love at first sight they said, but her father wouldn't have it. He wanted her to marry to improve his business connections," Mrs. Doyle said.

"What do you expect of Protestants?" Mr. Doyle interrupted and spat on the floor.

"Now you just get a rag and clean that up, Mick Doyle. On my clean floor yet," Mrs. Doyle scolded. "Where was I, oh yes, they married and had a little boy, the cutest little thing. He had a voice like an angel and smart as a whip. Folks would come from miles around to hear him sing at get togethers and he was just a little jigger too. Seamus died in the Atlantic when his ship was torpedoed during the Great War and she died a few years later. People said it was of a broken heart but it was the consumption that got her in the end."

"Do you know what happened to the boy?" Liam inquired.

"He was such a clever little lad, he'd gone to some fancy school. There was quite a bit of talk about it. After she died everyone assumed his father's folk must have took him. The old skin flint sure wouldn't have."

"Did Seamus have family?" Quinlan asked.

"I thought your Gran new his Ma?" Mrs. Doyle said.

"She did but they were just school girl acquaintances," Quinlan replied smoothly.

"Well as far as anyone around here knew they never had anyone from his family visit. I suppose he must have had some somewhere if they took the boy."

"Yes, I suppose he must." Quinlan said disappointedly.

"And what's your real connection with the family young man? You have an awful lot of questions?" Mrs. Doyle eyed Quinlan suspiciously.

"He wasn't taken in by relatives, he was sent to the workhouse," Quinlan replied quietly. "He was adopted by an Irish family living in England."

"And how would you know?" Mr. Doyle inquired.

"Because you're sharing your dinner with him," Quinlan replied. "I have my flute with me and all my cousins sing. Would you like us to sing you a few songs after the dishes are washed up?"

"Now that would be right kindly of you," Mrs. Doyle replied. "It's unfortunate your Grandfather was such a nasty old sod, but you seemed to have turned out alright in the end."

"You two are so full of it," Peter said later. "My father couldn't be less Irish if he tried."

"People in these parts don't trust the English. You're Irish for the rest of the trip or at least half Irish," Liam said while he rolled out his sleeping bag and stuffed a good pile of straw underneath it.

"Goodnight everyone," Sybil said as Quinlan turned down the lamp Mr. Doyle had given them to get to the loft.

Alice woke to moonlight streaming in from the loft window. She looked over to see Quinlan sitting by the door looking out at the moonlight countryside lost in thought.

"You need to sleep," she whispered as she went to sit beside him and put an arm around his shoulders.

"I can't sleep. It's all jumbled up. Memories, impressions, everything I thought I knew has gone upside down in the matter of a day," he whispered back so as not to wake the others.

"Is there anything I can do?" Alice asked.

"You're already doing it," Quinlan replied softly sliding an arm around her and pulling her close. They sat quietly for a few minutes not saying anything. Alice stroked her hand across his chest absently.

"You need rest," she whispered at last. "At least try."

"Sleep with me?" he asked quietly.

"Quinlan! I told you yesterday, no!"

"Not that. I meant sleep as in clothed same as you are now. I just want someone close."

"I'm hardly dressed in my nightgown and you're in just your drawers."

"I'm so damned tired I couldn't do anything if I wanted to," he whispered.

"Now that's complimentary, but alright," Alice replied. She went and got her sleeping bag and moved it beside his. Quinlan put his arm around her and pulled her close spooning against her back.

"I think I love you," he mumbled as he was drifting off to sleep.

"I think I love you, too," Alice replied. She waited for a second until she realized Quinlan was fast asleep with one arm holding her close in a vice like grip. _"At least you said it first," _she thought as she snuggled down in her sleeping bag and closed her eyes with a smile.

"What in the hell are you doing with my sister?" Peter shouted the next morning when he woke up to Quinlan with his arm around Alice.

"Sleeping what the hell does it look like?" Quinlan retorted coming awake and sitting up.

"You know what the hell it looks like," Peter said balling his fists.

"Peter be quiet," Alice said. "Quinlan and I were talking so we moved closer so we wouldn't wake everyone up. I'm in my sleeping bag. He's in his. Honestly, you're over reacting."

"When we get home you had better be buying her a ring," Peter said still mad.

"I'll buy your sister a ring when I'm damn good and ready," Quinlan retorted.

"Shut up both of you," Alice said stamping her foot and getting mad. "Nothing happened. Nothing is going to happen. We promised our parents and besides who are you Mr. High and Mighty," she challenged her brother. "I know all about that girl you snuck into your dorm last year. Are you buying her a ring?"

"How did you find out?" Peter asked cringing.

"You think the other girls don't gossip when one of their room mates sneaks out after lights out?" Alice had only been guessing but from the look on Peter's face she had hit the nail on the head. "Come on Sybil, get your coat and shoes. I need to go to the privy," Alice said sticking her nose in the air and marching to the ladder.

Peter punched Quinlan in the arm when he finally stood up. Quinlan punched him back and they wrestled good-naturedly for a minute or two.

"So you snuck a girl into your dorm?" Quinlan said at last. "You're doing better than me and your sister has one word on the subject, No."

Peter had a sheepish look on his face.

"You're both doing better than me for that matter," Liam said. Both other men turned to look at him in surprise. "What? I had that damned barracuda chasing after me for the last four years. I spent so much time at school, work and avoiding her it didn't leave much time for anything else."

"Admit it. You loved the attention," Quinlan razzed him.

"I like attention just from a different girl," Liam said.

"And who might she be?" Peter asked.

"I'll tell you when I'm damn good and ready," Liam said laughing at the looks on their faces.


	24. Love and Tears from Ireland - Part II

Love and Tears From Ireland Part II

Chapter 35 – Singing in the Rain

From County Antrim they traveled west to Cookstown where Liam was born. They found his parents graves in the churchyard and took photos with the Brownie camera they had brought along. From there they had traveled south to stay with Quinlan's adoptive mother's family. Once they crossed the border into Southern Ireland they had five days left to get to Dublin on schedule. They decided to head south through the central areas and then tour the south west coast making a loop and ending in Dublin before they took the ferry back to England.

"Even if we take a few extra days, what is the rush?" Liam said.

"Our fathers and work to name a few," Peter said.

The weather had turned nice and they hadn't seen rain in the last two days. They were lying on some sun warmed rocks by a pool they had spotted through a stand of trees from the road. They were traveling mostly on back roads and other vehicles were few and far between.

"We have the rest of our lives to work," Quinlan agreed.

"I am having an awfully good time," Alice said. "After this summer it is back to nursing college for a year with hardly a break. I want to have some fun before I start again. It won't be busy at the brewery for at least another two weeks Peter and then back to university this fall for you. What's the rush?"

"I could show you some fun," Quinlan commented. The opportunity for an off color comment was just too good.

"What do I always tell you?" Alice replied.

"No," everyone said in chorus then laughed.

"I've got an idea," Peter said. "Lets go swimming in the buff."

"Absolutely not," Sybil and Alice chimed.

"I dare you," Peter said he was already shucking off his clothes and the other two men weren't far behind.

"Don't look," Alice said to Sybil averting her eyes.

"Come on Alice, don't be such a prude," her brother called. "You were just saying you wanted to have some fun. Live a little."

"I'm going to do it," Sybil said.

"Sybil, no you're not," Alice replied shocked.

"And you are too." The three men were already in the water splashing each other. "We haven't been to an Inn in three days. You're starting to stink," Sybil informed her. I'll get our towels. We can change behind those bushes and sneak into the water. They won't see anything."

"But they'll know," Alice wailed.

"Haven't you ever wondered what a naked man looks like?" Sybil giggled. "Now's your chance."

Alice looked over to see the three men up to their navels in the shallow part of the pond.

"Aren't you coming Alice? I promise we won't look," Quinlan called. "The water isn't that cold."

"Turn around and no peeking," Alice called as she went behind the bushes and stripped off. She peeked out to make sure no one was looking before she slipped into the water. It wasn't long and she heard Sybil getting in behind her.

"Ok, you can turn around now," Sybil called once both girls were in the water up to their necks.

"It's deeper over there," Quinlan said gliding through the water towards Alice, then reaching for her hands. Alice had her hands tucked securely under her elbows with her arms covering her breasts. She was crouched down in the water so only her head was sticking out. Sybil went gliding past her to the deeper part of the pond.

"Relax, Alice," Quinlan coaxed. "No one's going to bite and it's just us. Give me your hands and I'll pull you." She tentatively put her hands out and allowed him to tow her through the water until he pushed off the bottom and was swimming backwards still towing her. As she relaxed, she decided this wasn't so bad since you couldn't really see anything anyway, that is until she spotted her brother up on a rock about to jump into the water.

"Who ever makes the smallest splash has to buy the supplies and make supper," Peter decreed.

"You're on," Liam and Quinlan both declared. They both climbed out of the water then jumped back in making massive splashes. Alice was blushing furiously at the sight of Quinlan in all his glory.

"We win. Sybil and Alice will have to make supper," Peter whooped triumphantly.

"If they think we're getting stuck making supper two nights in a row, they have another thought coming," Sybil decreed. She grabbed Alice by the hand. "Come on."

"Sybil, no!" Alice said in horror.

"Do you want to buy and cook supper again? They each eat twice what we do," Sybil hissed.

"They're never going to do it," Peter chanted. "We win."

"Don't speak too soon Peter Harris," Sybil said from where she and Alice were standing on the same rock the men had jumped off. Alice was trying her best to cover herself. Sybil was standing there with one arm across her breasts and the other hand covering her privates.

Liam turned around in shock at the sound of Sybil's voice. The sight that greeted him made his mouth go dry, as his jaw dropped open and he could feel an erection coming on despite the cold water. From what he could see around her arm and hand, Sybil's long wet dark hair clung to her round firm breasts. He abdomen was flat and her legs were perfectly shaped He knew he shouldn't stare but nothing on heaven or earth would make him turn away at that moment.

Peter was gazing at Sybil with a stupid smile on his face while Quinlan was watching Alice in fascination with his mouth hanging open. Her skin was white as ivory and the hints of breast and curve of her waist he could see around her hands and arms were making his libido go crazy. Both girls moved their arms and hands for just a second before they jumped. The girls hit the water with a loud splash that doused the three of them with water. Quinlan had to take a breath and will his body to behave itself before he moved towards Alice to take her hand and pull her across the pond away from the others for a bit.

"We win," Sybil cried victoriously waving her fists in the air with her breasts almost coming out of the water. Liam spotted Peter applauding her and looking at her longingly. A wave of jealousy hit Liam stronger than any he'd ever felt before in his life. He glanced over to see Quinlan coaxing Alice to sit in some shallow water with him. She was smiling at him shyly. They were so engrossed in each other they didn't even notice anyone else.

"You do win," Liam declared putting an arm around Sybil's waist and pulling her into the water so Peter couldn't see her anymore.

"You lost Peter," Sybil declared when she resurfaced. Liam ducked under the water to hide the blush that was rising to his cheeks and tickled Sybil's foot. She shrieked and swam away to another part of the pond. Finally Liam pulled himself out of the water and started to dry himself off with his shirt, which was soiled anyway. Sybil came over wrapped loosely in a towel and sat down on the rock beside him.

"What are you getting dressed for?" she questioned. "You can lay on the rocks and get dry in no time. Then we don't have to a pack wet things."

"Well, I uhm, I'm not sure," Liam said finally sitting down on the rock beside her. He couldn't take his eyes off the side of one breast he could just see peeking out from where the towel was sagging a bit.

"I'm going to lay here and get warmed up," Sybil declared.

Peter came out of the water and plopped himself down on the other side of Sybil and stretched out.

"Uhm, well…" Liam was trying to think of a coherent thing to say.

"I'm glad you let us come," Sybil said lying back and stretching out. "It's been so much fun and I'm having a wonderful time."

"I…uh well, I uh.." Liam stammered.

"Liam what ever is the matter with you?" Sybil asked sitting up. She was just in time to notice there was something that looked quite a bit different about his private parts than it had a few minutes ago.

"I had best go back in the water," Liam said quickly as he dashed back into the deepest and coldest part of the pond. Quinlan was just helping Alice out and holding a towel for her to wrap around herself to protect her modesty. He had no desire to share what he had just seen with everyone else. He was trying his best to bring up images of the Dowager Countess and all her wrinkles in his mind but he wasn't having a great deal of success.

When Liam reemerged from the pool everyone else was laying back taking in the sun. Alice was wrapped in a towel with Quinlan's arm protectively around her. Sybil and Peter looked like they were dozing off. Liam went back and cautiously lay back in his former spot, closed his eyes and tried to relax. About ten minutes later he heard Sybil move. He opened his eyelids a crack to see her up on one elbow taking a good long look at his naked body. He was trying to think of every nasty thing he could to keep his body from responding. She finally pushed herself up and went to get dressed. A small smile curved Liam's lips before he pushed himself back into the chilly water. _"This trip is getting more interesting by the minute,"_ he thought while he waited for the icy water to do it's worst on his aroused libido.

Two days later they were caught in a driving rainstorm while they were driving. By the time they found a town and located the local pub they were all exhausted and ready for a warm bath and decent meal. The pub was full when they entered and more people were coming in behind them. They were just in time to hear the barkeeper's side of a telephone conversation.

"What do you mean you can't play tonight? I got this house full in a rainstorm and no music. How do you expect me to run a profitable business without a band? They'll all be running to the Black Duck and leaving me high and dry," the barkeeper complained.

"Excuse me," Liam said. "I couldn't help but overhear your conversation. My sister and cousins and I are all musicians. We were wondering if we could supply the music in exchange for two rooms for the night. If someone could loan me a vio…fiddle."

"Depends Sonny," the man said. "If you're any good. I only got one room left. It's the last one in town. This storms pushing 'em off the roads. If you don't want the room the gent behind you will take it.

"We're good," Liam declared. "We can play a set. If you like us, dinner and the room."

"Dinner for two of you and the room," the barkeep said."

"Dinner for all five, the room and you keep any tips we make."

"Done," the barkeeper put out his massive fist for Liam to shake. "Here's a fiddle. He pulled the case out from under the bar. He looked at the two girls speculatively. "Those girls look awful young to be out with a bunch of blokes at a pub."

"Our sisters," Liam replied. "We're all brothers and sisters. Those two are twins."

"Uhuh," the man said. "If you say so. I'm desperate and I don't question what goes on behind closed doors."

Alice and Quinlan were both turning every shade of red possible.

"My brother will just get his flute," Liam said.

"Liam we're soaking wet. We aren't going to play all that well," Peter hissed. "And they'll pick up on our accents right off."

"No they won't. Look at them. They're all as fed up and tired from the rain as we are. They won't even notice. Quinlan can sing the lead in the first song. After that they won't notice. We'll play a couple reels. It will be fine. Alice grab the tambourine, Sybil on piano and Peter sing harmony."

Quinlan returned with his flute and dropped his wet jacket in the pile with the rest. They quickly decided on three popular drinking songs they knew and a couple reels. As soon as they started to sing the familiar words almost everyone in the bar started singing as well. Not one person commented on Peter or Alice's accents. At the end of the set Liam went back to the barkeeper.

"Well?"

"Here's the key, you play from eight till midnight. One break. Drinks for the band are on the house."

"And dinner." Liam reiterated their agreement.

"And dinner."

They went up to see their room only to realize they would be packed in like cordwood. The room had a double bed and a washstand with just enough room to open the door. There was barely enough room to squeeze around the foot of the bed to get to the window.

"I hope our bedrolls are dry or we're going to have a bad night," Peter said.

"Better than a tent in the rain," his sister replied.

"More cramped than a tent in the rain," Sybil said woefully.

"Never mind that. It's going to have to be three in the bed and two on the floor. There is no way three people can sleep in this tiny floor space. We'll survive and it's dry," Quinlan said.

"How are we going to manage that?" Sybil replied. "The three of you won't fit in the bed."

"One sister sleeps on the outside beside her brother," Alice volunteered hopefully with a wrinkled brow.

"I'm the widest. I'll take the floor," Quinlan said. "Alice you sleep with me and Sybil can sleep beside Liam."

"Hey, what gives you the right to dictate where my sister sleeps," Peter said.

"You snore," Quinlan replied. "At least if you're by the wall the rest of us have a better chance of getting some rest.

"Alright it's settled then. Quick baths for everyone and put on whatever you have left that is dry and clean," Liam said.

"Then we eat and we don't have to cook it ourselves for a change," Quinlan added.

Quinlan was starting to feel much better and was getting back to his usual self. His memory of his childhood was starting to return in small fragments. He had small memories of his mother and of singing in a church and another memory of sitting at a table eating a meal with a group of people. He had remembered small bits here and there of being punished for singing or talking too much when he first went to the workhouse.

The welder he had apprenticed to had started burning him deliberately whenever he had asked a question and things had escalated from there. Every time he had made a noise the man had thought up another humiliating punishment. "I'll show you, you big mouthed Protestant whelp," he would say before would inflict another painful abuse. It had made him frightened to stand up to bullies at the village school. Frightened to speak in some instances. Even after his adoption when he had started to excel at school he had been frightened to hold a girl's hand or try for a kiss, except for Alice and she had plastered him with mud when he was younger for his efforts. He had covered it all with learning to flirt and copying his father's extroverted personality. He didn't feel the fear now and the little things in life weren't bothering him at all. He was wondering how he would ever get Alice's father to agree to their marriage, but he hadn't asked Alice yet and she had another year of school before anything along those lines was possible.

Everyone was feeling much better once they were bathed, changed and fed. Liam had put together a list of songs for them to play. The melodies weren't overly complex and a few of the songs were performed without instruments. By half way through the night, they realized why the barkeeper was so anxious to have a band. They had at least half a dozen rounds people had sent over piled up waiting to be consumed and they were still coming. By the time they made it back up the stairs none of them were feeling any pain.

"Liam is prettier," Sybil said not making any sense when the two girls went to brush their teeth and get their nightgowns on in the bathroom.

"He's pretty, but not pretty enough for me. We got to see their willies," Alice giggled. "I dare you to kiss Peter on the mouth. Then we'll both have kissed a boy."

They both giggled inanely.

"I rather kiss Liam. He's prettier," Sybil slurred."You know his real name is Flynn not Branson."

"Shhh," Sybil said as they got back to the door of the room. "They might hear us." They opened the door and bumped into Quinlan who was sprawled on the floor. They had to squeeze in the partially opened door to get into the room. They were still giggling over nothing as Sybil clambered over Quinlan and tried to find space in the bed with the two men. She finally managed to find a spot between the two of them and sat on her haunches.

"I dare you," Alice giggled.

Sybil leaned forward still giggling and put a peck on Liam's mouth. There was bit of light coming in the window from the lights on the building.

Liam had woken up when Sybil put the first peck on his lips. _"Oh just go to sleep,"_ he groaned inside his head. He was exhausted from driving all day in the rain and the alcohol he had consumed was making him even sleepier.

"Not like that," Alice instructed giggling some more. "You have to leave it there for a while. Like this." She demonstrated on Quinlan who just rolled over in his sleep.

Liam was awake enough to know what kind of game the girls were playing. Despite his slightly inebriated state he was thanking providence he had been relieving things twice a day since the skinny dipping. There was no way he would be able to share a bed with Sybil otherwise. He'd always liked her as a sister but in the last six months or so, he had started to notice her in the way a man notices a woman. The other day the force of his jealousy had surprised him and he had been examining his feelings surrounding his adoptive sister ever since.

Sybil leaned forward and pressed her lips to Liam's. He kissed her back allowing his lips to move across the fullness of hers and relishing the sensation. His hand moved up of it's own accord to tangle in her hair. He was just about to pull her to him and show her what kissing could really be about when she sat up suddenly.

"His whiskers are scratchy," Sybil declared. "I'm going to sleep." Alice giggled profusely then settled herself. Sybil wiggled and squirmed her way into the bed between the two men. Alice was already in her sleeping bag curled against Quinlan. Liam rolled on his side away from Sybil and squeezed his eyes shut in frustration. _"How the hell am I going to keep my hands off her until we reach home?"_ he thought. He waited until his erection subsided before he rolled back over, put one arm around her and drew her close.

* * *

Chapter 36 – By the Side of the Road

"It feels like there's a drum in my head," Sybil complained the next morning when she woke up. The rain pounding on the window was making an awful racket.

"Good news," Liam declared as he came back in the room.

"There can't be any news that is good," Alice said holding her head. She was sitting on the bed beside Sybil and her brother who was still sleeping. Quinlan came in a minute behind Liam with mugs of tea for everyone.

"We can stay an extra night no charge and we get meals if we sing and play a bit this afternoon and again tonight."

"We can't, we're already behind schedule," Alice replied accepting the mug from Quinlan and sipping the hot liquid.

"It's pouring. We can't travel in this. I've already sent a cable to Gran and one to Da saying we've been delayed due to weather. As long as we don't pay for lodging the rest of the time, we'll be fine. Besides we need to do laundry," Liam replied

"I'll sing, but no more ale or lager or whatever they were pushing at us last night," Alice said. Sybil could only nod miserably.

They were sitting downstairs having lunch when a man approached the bar then walked over to their group.

"Would you happen to be the owners of the motorcycles parked out front?" He was well dressed and had an English accent.

"We are," Quinlan replied standing up. "Is there a problem?"

"No problem. I was wondering where you had the modifications done. I've never seen anything quite like them."

"They're my own design," Quinlan replied. "My cousin and I did the modifications on all three bikes."

"You're from Ireland?" the man inquired.

"England, we're on a tour of the countryside. May I inquire who would like to know?" Quinlan replied.

The man introduced himself as a representative of the Royal Enfield Company. He was on vacation in the area and had spotted the motorcycles the previous evening when he came to the pub for his dinner.

"I am intrigued by how you overcame the issues with suspension when adding a passenger," he said. "Whatever made you think of it?"

"We both have younger siblings we're forever carting around. It's cheaper and easier to do it on a motorcycle and a sidecar isn't always practical. We needed to smooth out the ride," Liam replied.

"Do you mind if we have a word over at the bar when you're finished your lunch if you have a minute?" the man inquired. He handed each of them his business card.

"It looks like we may have just made our first business contact," Liam said when he got back to the group an hour later. Quinlan was still talking to the man. He finally shook his hand then headed back over to the group. It was almost time for them to entertain in the pub for the afternoon set.

"What did you think of him?" Peter asked with a nod towards the man they had met.

"He asked for a lot of details that I wasn't willing to give. As far as I'm concerned they're our designs. If they want to use them, they can pay for them." Quinlan replied. "But it might be promising. We can figure it all out when we get home. Doesn't matter, for now he's a bloke we met in a bar and we need to sing for our supper."

"And drinks," Peter said with a grin.

"Oh no, no drinks for me," Sybil said. "I had enough last night."

"Me too. I can't remember a thing," Alice said.

Liam had his fingers crossed that Sybil had just as convenient a memory.

Two days later they were just finishing up the tour of the southwestern part of Ireland. They would have all liked to see more but they had already been gone from home for two weeks and it would be another three days at least before they got back. They were planning to head for Dublin to visit Sybil, Quinlan and Liam's Gran the next day when Liam pulled to the side of the road. They were out in the country in an area where villages were few and far between.

"What's the matter?" Sybil asked.

"Front tire is going flat," Liam replied. It wasn't the first time they had had a breakdown. Part of the kit in the sidecar was a toolkit, tire patches, spark plugs, cans of oil and a few other odds and ends they had brought along for just such occurrences. The whole crew pulled up and everyone waited while Liam and Quinlan took the front wheel off.

"I used the last of the patches two days ago. I was going to buy more when we got to Dublin tomorrow," Quinlan said.

"It would be better if we replaced the tube completely, but a patch will have to do for now," Liam said. "You take Peter and Alice into the next town. Peter can find somewhere for us to stop over, while you come back with the tire."

"It's coming on lunch, hopefully I can find a garage that's open and get back fairly quick," Quinlan said. They had been thinking about finding a pub to stop over at so they would be presentable when they got to Dublin. They had been staying in fields and barns for most of the trip and had managed quite nicely exchanging chores and odd jobs for food and lodging. The spot they were now consisted of rolling green hills dotted with sheep. They could just see the ocean in the distance.

"If you go now, you should be able to find a garage and make it back by tea time," Liam replied. "If something comes up we'll be fine. We have all the gear and what's left of the food."

"I don't like to leave you," Alice said to Sybil.

"I can't ride into town with Peter. There's too much gear on his bike and there isn't any room," Sybil replied. "You had best get going if Quinlan's going to get back before with the wheel before we miss tea and dinner combined. Don't worry about us. I'm with Liam. I'll be safe."

The group headed off leaving Liam and Sybil at the side of the road with the front wheel from Liam's motorcycle strapped on the back of Peter's.

"Do you think Quinlan will make it back in good time?" Sybil asked Liam.

"Maybe, I'm not sure. It will depend if they find a garage and if it's open." Liam replied while he put the tools back into the sidecar so they wouldn't get lost. Sybil took their bedrolls off the bike to use as chairs and set them a ways away, then went about digging something for their lunch out of the sidecar.

"We can use our bedrolls as a picnic blanket," Sybil said. "We might as well make ourselves comfortable. At least it's a nice day."

"Yes it is," Liam replied. He wiped his hands as best he could then pulled two bottles of ale out of the sidecar and came to sit on his bedroll. Their fare of two rather mashed meat pies and ale was rather unglamorous but it served the purpose. They reminisced for a bit about the adventures they had on the trip. They ate their lunch and then laid back on their bedrolls to relax while they waited.

"I'm very glad you let us come," Sybil said while they were lying side by side on their sleeping bags watching the odd puff of cloud roll by. Liam had taken his jacket off and was using it as a pillow.

"We'll just have to be careful we don't mention three of us sleeping in one bed or swimming in the nude to our parents," Liam replied. "They'd skin me alive."

"It was rather daring, but fun," Sybil commented.

"Are you looking forward to nursing college?" Liam inquired casually.

"Yes and no. I'm interested in doing something with orphaned children like Mama and my real mother was a nurse. This trip has made me realize it's what I want to do and it's important. Nursing will go a long way towards making that happen."

"It's good to have a goal," Liam replied.

"Do you remember much about being in that place?" Sybil asked rolling on her side and looking at him.

"Some. I wasn't there that long only six months. I remember being cold, lonely and hungry sometimes. I could read and write so I had to take care of the little kids and help them with their lessons. I'd get up at night and tuck in the other boys that were crying and tell them stories that I could remember," Liam paused. "When Lillian walked in that door she was like an angel coming down to pull me out of despair."

"I'm glad she brought you home to us," Sybil said placing a hand on his shoulder then rolling onto her back. "What did you think when you met me?"

"I thought how incredibly lucky you were to have a family around you," Liam said thoughtfully. "Then I wondered if you would ever stop talking," he teased.

"I wasn't that bad," Sybil said rolling over and punching him.

"You didn't have to listen to it," Liam said starting to laugh.

"I'll get you for that," Sybil replied rolling over and sitting up. She started tickling him.

"No you won't," Liam said sitting up and tickling her back. "Admit it you used to talk too much."

"No, never," Sybil replied laughing when she fell back with Liam half on top of her.

"Admit it," Liam said with a laugh before his mouth slowly descended to hers and he kissed her. This wasn't the kiss Sybil had expected from her previous experiment on her adopted brother. She had a vague memory of kissing him while she was drunk. This was more. Their lips clung together and she could feel something inside her coiling like a spring that was driving her on wanting more. His tongue slid inside her mouth and her hands went around his back pulling him closer. They finally parted slightly breathless and panting still wanting more.

"I keep telling myself this is wrong," he said running his hand through her hair then kissing her deeply again. "I shouldn't feel like this. You're too young, our mutual parents took me in, they trust me, then I look at you and I want you so much it hurts. You're in my thoughts. I can't get you out of my mind. You're like a drug that's in my soul that I can't get enough of."

"Stop talking, just kiss me," Sybil said pressing her lips back against his. She moaned when she felt his hand close over her breast and kneed the soft flesh. She couldn't think about anything else but Liam and getting closer to him. She slid her hands under his shirt and undershirt to explore the warm flesh underneath. It wasn't long and his shirt was discarded in the grass along with his undershirt. Her hands were everywhere running over his warm flesh and relishing the feel of his fine chest hair against her palms. It vaguely crossed her mind to protest when she felt the buttons of her blouse open and her bra fall away but it felt too good, too right. She loved him. She had always loved him from that first day when they had walked home from the train with her carrying his violin. Now it was more. It was desire and passion and a feeling inside her that made her feel like together they could accomplish anything.

Sybil threw back her head and whimpered in ecstasy when she felt his lips close over her nipple. All she could do was to wrap her arms around him and draw him closer. As their lips met again, she felt him push her blouse and bra off her shoulders. She slipped her arms out of the sleeves and felt a mild irritation with the fabric that still separated them. Her hand went to the closure of his trousers and fumbled with the fastenings.

"Sybil we shouldn't," Liam mumbled against her lips between kisses.

"Do you love me?" she replied running her lips down his throat experimentally.

He nodded his head.

"Do you love me, Sybil?" he whispered.

"Yes, oh, yes," she said in a passion-drugged state as she placed her mouth back against his. It seemed like an eternity passed before the rest of their clothes were gone and she felt him fully naked against her. They slid inside his sleeping bag and laid back cocooned inside it's warmth. Sybil gasped at the sensation of her skin against his. She felt as though every nerve in her body was on fire. She pressed herself against him tightly and heard him groan as she brushed against his erection. Her mind and senses were realing and she felt an extreme sense of power in that moment, as she knew she was doing to him exactly what he was doing to her. She moved experimentally against him and marveled at his swift intake of breath.

He drew her legs up to wrap around his waist one at a time as he nestled himself between her legs. Liam was fighting the instinct to take her quickly. It was all he could do to slow his movements. The church might say what they were doing was a sin, but he would burn in hell for all time for just one chance to be with her.

There was some pain but it didn't last long as they moved and touched and sighed at every new sensation. At one point Sybil felt she didn't want what they were doing to ever stop. It could go on an on until eternity. Suddenly she felt something change and wave after wave of pleasure was crashing inside her and making her cry out. It was only a few thrusts later and Liam collapsed against her with an answering groan. He pulled her against him for a few minutes not speaking. Finally he moved to the side and pulled her so she was laying half on top of him.

"We shouldn't have done that," she said against Liam's chest. Her head was lying on his shoulder.

"I know that. Don't make me feel anymore guilty than I already do," he said.

"What are we going to do now, Liam?" Sybil said. A tear trickled down and landed on his chest. "I'm frightened."

"Hey, none of that now," he said tilting her face up to his and kissing her. "I told you I love you and I do. We'll have to wait is all. You need to go to nursing school and I have to get the business started. You do love me back, don't you?"

"I do," she said quietly. "I've loved you since the first day I met you. Now I love you even more."

"You see. We'll figure everything out. It might take some time but we'll do it," he said pulling her closer. "I just don't like that I broke my word to Da. I promised you would be safe and no one would lay a finger on you. Then here we are."

"I'm safe. I'm with you," Sybil replied. "Do you know we're exactly the same age as when my parents met?"

"Really? I didn't know that."

"It was right before she came out." Sybil paused. "How are we going to tell our parents?"

"We'll tell them when the time is right. It might not be right away, but we'll tell them."

"Do you think the others will guess?"

"They might," Liam replied stroking her hair.

"We've got to get dressed before Quinlan gets back."

"Just a few more minutes. Let me hold you my beautiful English siren."

They got up slowly. Liam went for the canteen of water and a towel and washed the traces of her virginity from Sybil's legs. He buttoned her blouse and brushed the stray pieces of grass from her hair. She marveled at how kind and patient he was and always had been.

A half hour later they heard the roar of Quinlan's motorbike in the distance before they could see him.

"About time you showed up," Liam said as he went over to take the wheel off the back of Quinlan's bike and complete the repairs.

"Garage in the next town was closed for lunch. I had to hunt down the owner and get him to open up. He was in no rush," Quinlan replied. "The other two are at the inn we found. We can stop there for tonight before we head to Dublin tomorrow. Are you alright? You look nervous."

"Do I," Liam replied. Quinlan had been his best friend for so many years he couldn't hide a thing from him. "I was thinking about that bloke from Enfield."

"You're such a mother hen. Don't fret. We'll see what he wants and if he can put his money where his mouth is. You're sure nothing else is bothering you?"

"Nothing. Lets get this done and get on the road. We should be getting back to the others."

* * *

Chapter 37 – Endless Days of Summer

The traveling sideshow pulled into Downton four days over schedule and tired from their long journey. Sybil had been groaning a bit at the thought of the rest of the summer spent tending her younger siblings but at the same time there was a feeling of time moving on and the summers of childhood having been put firmly behind her. Liam and Sybil waved to the others as they took the route to the Abbey to drop off Alice and Peter then took a lane that led a bit out of town so they could have a few minutes alone before they went back to their family and the challenges that awaited them.

"We're going to have to behave ourselves. No being together from here on out until we tell the family we intend to be married when you're finished nursing school," Liam told her once he had switched the engine off and given her a long kiss. Sybil was standing between his legs as he leaned on the seat of the bike. They hadn't had more than a few minutes alone for the rest of the trip.

"It's a little late for that isn't it?" Sybil said smiling coyly and playing with the buttons of his shirt.

"I mean it Sybil. We'll tell Mama and Da maybe at Christmas. I've got to get the business started and have something to my name besides a pocketful of dreams. It's going to be hard enough for them to hear without more problems. We aren't really brother and sister but they're the only family I've got."

"I suppose you're right," Sybil said looking downcast. "I have a wonderful boyfriend and I can't tell anyone. It's beyond difficult."

"I know it's difficult for me too, my love," Liam replied hugging her close. "Now we need to get home and get this mess of gear cleaned up and back to the real world. I love you Sybil. It's going to kill me to sit across the table from you and pretend there is nothing between us, but it has to be, for at least another few months anyway."

-0-

"You don't say a child protégé and a Protestant to boot," John Harris commented when Peter and Alice were telling the family at the Abbey about the trip to Ireland and Quinlan's before unknown background. "It doesn't surprise me one bit. Old Barnstead was always saying how bright he was, and the way he seems to pick things up so quickly is uncanny."

"Quinlan's done quite well for himself wouldn't you say, Papa?" Alice questioned testing the waters.

"Yes, the proof is yet to come, but he's done well and rose above adversity. He's certainly surpassed the expectations one might expect of a tradesman's son," her father replied. "Applying for scholarships and working his way through university shows his metal."

Alice was toying with her fork. She was hoping her father would take the news she was seeing Quinlan well. He put a great deal of stock in work and education. Her Uncle George, Papa's next oldest brother had come to visit during the early part of the depression when the staff was being let go and all of the adults had to pull their weight and then some in the family business or watch it go under. Uncle George had laid in bed most of the day and expected his breakfast on a tray. After two weeks of doing nothing and "sponging" as her father put it, her father had thrown her uncle out the servant's door of the Abbey. She could still remember her father saying the front door was too good for a lazy lay about like him. The man had died a penniless gigolo a few years later after flitting from one door to the next of anyone who would take him in.

"Would you be terribly upset if I wanted to see Quinlan without Peter and the others present?" Alice questioned hesitantly.

"Did something happen on that trip that shouldn't have?" her father questioned immediately.

"No, Papa. My virtue is still intact if that is what you're implying. Quinlan asked me to go to the pictures with him on Saturday. I wanted your permission," Alice said.

"I would be more comfortable if your brother went with you."

Edith sighed slightly. Her husband was extremely protective where Alice was concerned even though she would be finished nursing school and technically an adult with her own career within the next year.

"Alice is a sensible girl John, with a good head on her shoulders. She knows when to say no. She doesn't need her brother watching her every step," Edith said.

"It's not her instigating something I worry about," John replied.

"Papa there was more than enough opportunity for Quinlan to take advantage of the situation while we were in Ireland," Peter said coming to his sister's rescue. "He was very respectful of Alice and I would have stepped in if he wasn't."

"Thank you, Peter," Alice said. "So may I go?"

"Yes," her father said with a sigh. "Just be sure to slap his face if he doesn't mind his manners."

"Thank you, Papa," Alice said getting up and going to give her father a peck on the cheek.

"I don't suppose any of you would like my opinion on the matter," Robert began.

"Not particularly," Edith replied shutting her father down before he started.

The rest of the summer passed in a blur. Sybil had the charge of her younger siblings almost everyday for at least six hours. Her father was busy around the estate as he always was in the summer and Lillian was teaching at a summer music session at a college in York and commuting everyday. Liam and Quinlan were working on the new business at a frantic pace. They had a meeting scheduled with the Royal Enfield Company to discuss contract design work. They were buying and selling motorcycles and cars as fast as they could and reinvesting the capital to build an inventory and get their new company financially solvent.

A few days before Alice was to return to nursing school in mid August, she and Sybil went riding. It was one of the few afternoons when Sybil was free of her entourage and jumped at the chance to get together with Alice.

"Do you remember back at the beginning of summer when we thought we would never be kissed?" Alice asked.

"It seems like so long ago but it was only six weeks," Sybil replied. "It feels as though everything has changed so much since we got back. Liam and Quinlan are working all the time and Peter is always at the brewery or out working on something on the estate. I'm forever seeing to one sibling or another."

"Mama has had me filing papers at the cannery and double checking orders endlessly," Alice added. She was silent for a moment. "I've got some news. I wanted you to be the first to know. Quinlan has asked me!" she said excitedly. "I've agreed and we're going to tell everyone when I'm home from school at Christmas."

"That is wonderful news," Sybil replied smiling. "I'm very happy for you."

"Thank you," Alice replied. "We're planning to get married next summer after I graduate."

"Alice can I ask you something of a personal nature?"

"I suppose you can ask," Alice replied.

"Have you and Quinlan done anything more than kiss?" Sybil asked her hesitantly.

"Sybil! What a question and the answer is no, we haven't even told our parents yet."

"Don't you want to?" Sybil questioned.

"Of course I want to, but I want to wait at least a little longer. Sybil what brought this on?" Alice inquired. "Has something happened?"

"No, nothing's happened. I was just curious. I'm sorry if I've embarrassed you," Sybil apologized.

"I'm not embarrassed. You're my best friend after all. Did you get a kiss yet?"

"Now where would I have gotten one?" Sybil replied evasively. "We were always together in Ireland and I haven't had a moment to myself since we've been back."

"It will happen," Alice assured her. "Quinlan says Liam has a secret girlfriend. He won't even tell Quinlan who she is."

"Maybe it's Elizabeth-Anne," Sybil said mischievously.

"Oh, I couldn't possibly marry a man who spends his days around motorcars," Alice mimicked Elizabeth-Anne.

"A trip on a motorcycle to an uncivilized country? How could anything be more barbaric?" Sybil mocked.

The two girls laughed and continued their ride making up ridiculous things to say and enjoying their last day together of the summer.

Sybil was leaving in two days for the nurse's training college in York. It had been getting harder and harder to sit across from Liam at family meals or have the younger children tag along when they went anywhere away from the house. She was falling more in love with him by the day. Every time he left a flower where he knew she would find it or a small note inside the napkin at her place at dinner, she knew he was thinking of her as much as she was thinking of him. They had managed to slip off for a few minutes only a few times over the weeks and had spent the stolen moments locked in each other's arms.

It was late August and the evening was warm and humid making sleep impossible. To make matters worse her skin had been crawling with suppressed awareness and desire for the last six weeks. Finally after tossing and turning for two hours, Sybil threw back the covers and headed to the door of her room. She opened the door and glanced up and down the corridor. She tapped softly on Liam's bedroom door before she turned the handle and entered. He was lying on his stomach with just a sheet covering him up to his waist. He lifted his head the moment she walked in

"Sybil, what are you doing in here? You shouldn't be here, we have to wait," he scolded quietly. She crossed to the bed and slipped between the sheets after she had flipped the latch on his door.

"I couldn't sleep and I've been thinking about you," she said biting her bottom lip a bit then looking up at him. "I'll go if you want me to."

"No, oh God no," he said as pulled her into his arms. He pulled the nightgown over her head and threw it on the floor. She realized immediately he wasn't wearing anything under the sheet. The passion they had been denying for almost the last six weeks burned like a flame between them. They made love frantically until their passion was spent then again more slowly taking their time and trying to absorb as much as they could of each other before the separation they knew was coming. Finally they lay together not sleeping in each other's arms.

"Alice told me she and Quinlan are going to announce their engagement at Christmas," Sybil said quietly.

"I know. He's practically walking on the clouds," Liam replied while stroking her arm.

"Will we be able to tell the family then?" Sybil asked.

"We'll wait for a few days after they've made their announcement so we don't steal their thunder," Liam replied.

"I'm going to miss you so much," Sybil said pulling him closer.

"I'll miss you too. We can always write and it will be easier for me to keep my hands off you this way," he said with a self-derisive chuckle. "You should go back to your room before someone realizes you're missing."

"No," Sybil whined snuggling her face against him even though she knew he was right.

"I'll set the alarm. Is that better?" Liam said with a chuckle.

Sybil nodded and a small smile spread across her face when she got her own way. Liam reached over and adjusted the clock then lay back down and pulled Sybil close.

"Goodnight, my love," he whispered before they both fell fast asleep.

Sybil awoke the next morning to the sound of feet running up and down the corridor. It took her a moment to realize where she was, then she shook Liam awake.

"Liam, the clock didn't ring," she hissed.

Liam pushed himself up and looked at the clock then lay back down.

"Damn," he muttered under his breath. He had forgotten to pull the button to set the alarm.

"Sybil isn't in her room," they heard Ronan call down the stairs.

Liam quickly rolled out of bed and pulled on his drawers. Sybil grabbed her nightgown and pulled it on as quickly as she could. She went behind the door as Liam opened it and stuck his head out into the corridor. He motioned her the coast was clear.

Sybil stepped into the hall in time to hear Lillian coming up the stairs talking to one of the other children.

"I don't know where she is," Lillian said. "She isn't downstairs. Did you try the washroom?"

Sybil didn't have enough time to get back to her own room. She quickly grabbed the handle to the attic door, jerked it open then stepped inside. Liam closed his bedroom door just as Lillian and Branna made it to the corridor. Sybil emerged from the attic carrying a suitcase and closed the door.

"We wondered where you had gotten to," Lillian told her.

"I was just getting a case, Mama" Sybil replied. "I thought I would get started on my packing."

"That is probably a wise choice," Lillian replied turning to go back downstairs.

"Sybil why is your nightie inside out?" Branna asked her.

"Is it? I hadn't noticed," Sybil replied. "It was so hot last night I mustn't have been paying attention."

"You smell funny," Branna said.

Sybil realized in horror she smelled of exactly what she and Liam had been up to last night.

"It's called being too hot. I'll explain all about it," Lillian told Branna assuming Sybil smelled of sweat from her deodorant paste failing in the heat. The time was coming when Lillian had to instruct the younger girls on the use of hygene products and how to suppress body odors. She made a mental note to have a talk with the three of them this week. Lillian had already moved back towards the stairs and was at the opposite end of the corridor before she turned around. "Don't be too long, Sybil. I have to get going soon."

"I won't," Sybil called as she dashed into her room and closed the door. She leaned against it and took a few deep breaths. Sneaking around was for the birds. She could hardly wait for the day when everything was out in the open and they would be married and free to spend their days and nights together as they pleased. She grabbed a change of cloths and headed into the washroom just in time to see Liam heading in there to shave and brush his teeth. She reached out and grabbed the waistband of his trousers and pulled him backwards.

"Ladies first," she said.

"Sybil I have to get to work," he complained.

She closed the door then opened it immediately.

"Get a better alarm clock," she said then laughed at the stunned look on his face and gave him a quick peck on the lips before she closed the door and locked it behind her. _"So much for a romantic morning,"_ she thought as she ran the bath.

* * *

Chapter 38 – Life Comes Full Circle

"You could bottle brown sugar and water, add flavoring and put a label on it that read lager and some fool would buy it," Kieran Branson told Tom Branson and John Harris during the engagement party for Quinlan and Alice at Downton Abbey a few days after Christmas 1937. Alice's father had taken their engagement much better than she had expected. Her father had been raised an aristocrat but had little patience with the titles and snobbery that went with it. He had worked since he was a young man and was more interested in a man's education and work ethic than the title he was born to. "After all," he had said when his daughter told him of her engagement, "my brothers may have had the aristocratic titles but you never met two more useless men in your life. Quinlan is bright, hardworking and educated. He will see you are provided for and taken care of. What more can I ask?"

The engagement party was being held at Downton Abbey much to Quinlan's father's disgust and despite Lord Grantham's reluctance to have Kieran as a guest at the house, but it was the only place that was large enough to hold all the family and friends in one gathering.

"Brewing is an art," John said. "I believe even the most common man who is a regular at a pub can tell the difference."

"I tell you the crowd I associated with when I was young wouldn't know the difference. They drank swill. There wasn't a one of 'em that had a discerning taste as you put it," Kieran replied. "I bet you could mix up some kind of concoction and put a fancy label on it and they would buy it."

"You're on," John replied. "I'll have Peter mix up some fruit juice, water and sugar and maybe add a little fizz or ferment it a bit and put it in bottles next summer when he is home. If you can sell it, you win the bet."

"Now you're talking," Kieran replied. "What do you want to bet?"

"Two cases of my best ale, against maintenance on my car next winter?"

"Done," Kieran said sticking out his hand to shake the other man's.

The great hall was packed with people. Tom and Lillian's family was there as was Kieran's and all of the Crawley's including the Dowager Countess who was now in her late nineties and had to be pushed around in a wheel chair. Toasts were drunk and at one point glasses were tapped calling for the happy couple to kiss. Alice blushed when Quinlan kissed her for so long she was gasping for air when the finally broke apart. Everyone clapped and they were kept busy talking to well wishers and accepting congratulations on their upcoming marriage.

Once the crowd had thinned a bit the families moved to the main dining room for a buffet style meal. They had long since given up the tradition of excluding the children and since the majority of the children in the family were adults now or soon would be it made little difference. There was a great deal of general chitchat around the table when suddenly Lilly, Sybil's youngest sister spoke up.

"Can I sleep in Liam's room tonight, Mama?" Lilly asked.

"No you may not," Lillian replied then turned back to the conversation she had been having with Matthew Crawley who was visiting with his wife Mary and their children for the holidays.

"Mama, why can't I sleep with Liam?" Lilly asked a few minutes later.

"Because you have your own room and you're almost ten Lilly. You're too old to be sleeping with your older brother," Lillian replied.

"But Mama, Sybil has her own room and she's older than me and she sleeps with Liam," Lilly said.

The room suddenly fell silent. The only sound was Liam's fork hitting his plate when he dropped it.

"Did I miss something?" the Dowager Countess inquired reaching for her hearing aid and cranking the volume up.

"Would you care to explain?" Tom looked at Liam then at Sybil.

"Mama, Da," Liam began. He took a breath. "Sybil and I were planning to tell you in a few days. We're engaged and planning to get married when she finishes school."

"You damn well better be," Tom said raising his voice and throwing his napkin on the table as he stood up.

"Daddy, please try to understand," Sybil said almost starting to cry. Everyone was looking at her in disbelief. Liam got up and went around the table and helped her from her chair. She buried her face against him.

Everyone at the table was in such a state of shock they didn't know what to say.

"After everything we've done for you, this how you pay us back? Sleeping with my daughter under my own roof?"

"Tom please, we can discuss this somewhere private," Lillian said.

"Sybil is your girl friend?" Quinlan asked in disbelief. Alice elbowed him.

"Mama, Da we were trying to find a way to tell you. We're not deliberately trying to hurt anyone. We didn't plan this. I love Sybil and I want to marry her," Liam pleaded.

Tom opened his mouth to respond but Cora was too quick.

"Tom, Lillian, why don't you take this into the drawing room?" Cora said.

Lillian got up and went around the table taking her husband by the arm and urged him towards the door. Sybil and Liam followed. Lord Grantham started to rise but was stopped by his wife.

"Sit down Robert," Cora said under her breath.

"She is my granddaughter and I have a vested interest in her welfare," he replied.

"It's not your place," Cora said. "You're not her father."

Robert slowly retook his seat.

"This is preposterous," he grumbled.

They could hear yelling coming from the other room.

"History repeats itself," the Dowager Countess said perking up more than she had in months with the drama going on around her. "I remember you reacting in much the same manner Robert, when a certain young man walked into the drawing room unannounced."

"That was entirely different," he replied.

"What exactly took place on that trip to Ireland?" John asked. "And don't tell me nothing."

"Nothing, Sir," Quinlan replied. "They were never any opportunity for anything to happen."

Alice, Peter and Quinlan exchanged a questioning look and shrug.

"Except at that pub where we were all squashed in one room, but it would have been impossible. You couldn't pick your teeth without someone without else knowing what you were doing. But then there was that day when Alice and I were at the Inn waiting for everyone and you went back with…oh," Peter said with dawning realization.

Quinlan and Alice looked at each other as realization hit, then at Peter.

"And what pray tell was that look for?" Kieran inquired.

"We got separated with a breakdown for a bit," Quinlan replied. "It wasn't all that long though."

"Long enough," Kieran said.

The Dowager Countess was busy maneuvering her wheel chair back from the table and pushing herself up on her walking stick.

"You there, young man, give me some assistance," she said looking at Declan.

He got up and held the chair while she got to her feet.

"Mother, I hardly think," Robert began.

"I have been party to every family incident for almost a hundred years," the Dowager said. "I'm not about to change now at my advanced age." She toddled slowly to the door of the drawing room. She entered to find Tom standing by the fireplace with his jaw set and looking angry. Lillian was seated on a chair. Liam and Sybil were standing together with his arm around her protectively. Sybil's face looked as though she had been crying.

"So the apple doesn't fall far from the tree," the Dowager said as she walked in and took a seat and cocked one eyebrow at Tom.

"Lady Grantham, I hardly think now is the time," Tom said to her exasperatedly.

"Is there ever a good time for disgrace?" she replied looking at him archly. She turned towards her great granddaughter. "Now for the matter at hand. What have you decided to do to minimize the scandal?"

"We haven't got that far. We're trying to understand this…nonsense," Tom replied.

"It's quite simple. They're in love and plan to get married," the Dowager replied. "There is little else to understand."

"But they're brother and sister," Lillian replied.

"No, they are not," the Dowager stated. "Sybil is my late granddaughter's daughter. Liam is a boy you brought into your home to raise. Their judgment may be questionable but what is rational in affairs of the heart?"

"He has betrayed our trust," Tom stated.

"As you did Robert's all those years ago," the Dowager reminded him.

"What?" Sybil asked looking from her father to her great-grandmother questioningly.

"How much has your father told you about his relationship with your natural mother?" the Dowager inquired.

"They were young and in love and went to Dublin to live," Sybil replied.

"Only half the story?" the Dowager questioned.

Tom moved to the back of Lillian's chair and scowled.

"Almost twenty years ago, your father walked into this room and stood where you're standing now and announced he and your mother were getting married. No one had any idea they were even interested in each other. It was a different time then. Marriage between the classes was accepted even less than it is now," the Dowager looked at her grandson-in-law appraisingly. "Your father had betrayed our trust. He was given the responsibility of chauffeuring us all about and delivering everyone safely. For years he had been wooing your mother behind everyone's back. My son provided you with everything," the Dowager reminded him. "Your livelihood, a roof over your head, your meals even the clothes on your back and there you were defying him and informing us you were taking our darling Sybil away."

"But you and Grandpapa work together," Sybil said wide-eyed. "He trusts you."

"He didn't always," her father replied disheartened. "We didn't learn to trust each other until later after you were born."

"Now to the matter at hand," the Dowager continued. "Scandal must always be minimized. You will get married while my granddaughter is still attending her training," the Dowager addressed Liam. She held her hand up to silence Tom and Lillian's protest. "You will wait approximately two months to make it look as though this is a normal engagement and you are not marrying in a rush. You, young man will move in with that drunken gorilla who masquerades as a respectable businessman."

"She means your Uncle Kieran," Tom supplied.

"Other than the family no one has any idea there has anything untoward happened and they can be silenced," the Dowager stated. "Things will work out nicely."

"You can't just tell us what to do with our own children," Tom protested.

"I believe I just have. Furthermore Sybil hasn't done anything many young women before her haven't done including her own mother," the Dowager said.

"Now see here. I didn't seduce her mother before we were wed."

"Oh really," the Dowager replied raising her eyebrows. "My late granddaughter didn't visit your room for an entire evening while you were staying at the Grantham Arms? It cost me a pretty penny and a lot of time and effort to cover that up. You thought I didn't know?"

Tom snapped his mouth shut.

"Mama, Da, we really are sorry things got a bit out of control," Liam said at last. "We just love each other so much it just happened and it hasn't been years. We've only known our feelings were mutual for a few months."

"You'll do as your great grandmother says," Lillian said at last. "Liam you'll stay with Kieran and we'll have a wedding in the very near future. You will go talk to the priest in the morning."

"Now go tell the others they can come in and drink a toast to the happy couple. Someone needs to drive me home. I've had quite enough excitement for one day," the Dowager said as she tilted her head imperiously.

-0-

"Stop moping about and get your coat on," Edith informed her stepdaughter the next day. "I've telephoned Lillian. They are back from Ripon and making arrangements with the priest for the wedding. Aunt Mary and I are going down to have a word with Sybil's father and you are coming with us."

"I don't want to," Alice replied sulkily.

"Alice it's time to grow up. You'll be a married woman in six months. You have to realize people make mistakes. You learn from them and move on," Edith informed her while pulling on her gloves.

"I can't believe she didn't tell me or any of us for that matter," Alice complained.

"There are some things in life you don't share," Edith replied. She could think of one episode with a certain farmer during the Great War she herself would sooner forget. "They made a mistake not telling anyone they were planning on getting married. It's not the end of the world. Now get your coat. Aunt Mary is waiting."

"How are things today?" Mary inquired as Lillian greeted them at the door.

"Not good," Lillian replied. "Sybil is up in her room, Alice why don't you go on up?" She directed. Alice nodded and headed up the stairs. "Tom is sulking. He's terribly hurt. The trip to see the priest was awkward to say the least. Liam and Sybil were clinging together and Tom wouldn't speak to either of them."

"We'll, talk to him," Edith said. "It might do some good. Where is he?"

"He's in the sitting room trying to work on some papers," Lillian replied. "I'll get some tea."

"Mary, Edith, what brings you by?" Tom inquired trying to make light of the mess his family was in. He felt as though he were sitting in the middle of a pile of crumbled bricks he could never put back together again.

"Family, what else," Mary replied.

"We thought you could use a little bucking up," Edith added.

"Things are in a bit of a mess," he replied.

"Not that much of a mess," Edith said. "Unexpected but not a mess."

"That's easy for you to say," Tom replied.

"Is it?" Mary said. "It seems things have come full circle and now you're in the same position our father was."

"Your grandmother said much the same thing last night."

Lillian returned with a tea tray and poured cups for each of them.

"Granny doesn't know to this day about your failed elopement or how much we covered up for our sister before you were married," Edith pointed out.

"That was different," Tom said still holding onto his hurt and anger.

"Was it? I don't think so," Mary said. "You were young, foolish and terribly in love. I have a lot to answer for on judgment day for all the times I lied about my sister's whereabouts when she was really with you."

"Papa's greatest regret is that he didn't forgive you and Sybil sooner," Edith said. "He lost all that time with her holding onto his pride and hurt and he wasted a great deal of time when he could have been getting to know you better. We all did."

"Try to forgive her," Mary said. "Try to forgive them both. You of all people should know what it feels like to be in love with someone when the society around you doesn't accept your union."

"It's not just that," Tom said with a sigh. They were right. He did know exactly what his son and daughter were going through, well his adopted son. "They gave me their word nothing would happen on that trip and it's obvious it did."

"Haven't you've ever done something foolish you regret?" Edith said. "I certainly have."

Mary looked at her sister a bit oddly.

"Sybil isn't the first young girl to succumb to passion and she certainly won't be the last," Mary said.

Lillian had remained quiet throughout the entire conversation.

"So when is the happy day," Mary inquired.

"The end of February. Sybil will have a short break from her studies then," Lillian replied.

"Are you planning to have the reception at the Abbey?" Edith inquired pulling a notebook from her handbag. "We'll have to get to work on the arrangements."

"Tom where are you going?" Lillian asked.

"I think I'll walk down to the village and have a word with Liam," he said.

"Don't say anything you might regret," Lillian warned.

"No, I won't. I need to have a word with my son and let him know his father knows exactly how he feels," Tom said. "Don't wait tea for me."

* * *

Chapter 39 – Mending Fences and Facing Hurdles

"Sybil, can I come in?" Alice asked after she tapped on the door to Sybil's room. Finally the latch turned and Sybil opened the door.

"Don't scold me Alice," she said.

"I'm not going to scold you, Sybil," Alice said. "I want to understand. I really do."

Sybil went back to sit on the bed where she had been looking at the photo album of their trip to Ireland.

"It was a lark, wasn't it?" Sybil said sadly indicating the photo album.

"It was the best time of my life," Alice replied sitting on the other side of the bed and looking at the pictures. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"I couldn't. We couldn't tell anyone. We broke our promise to our parents and then I had school and Liam didn't want to say anything before they got the business off the ground. We were going to tell everyone in a few days. We didn't want to steal your moment," Sybil sighed. "I'm sorry we ruined your dinner."

"You didn't ruin it. You made it memorable," Alice said trying to make light of the previous evening. "Weren't you afraid you would get pregnant?" Alice asked on a more serious note.

"The first couple times I was frightened I would but I love Liam so much I just didn't care," Sybil replied. "I brought home a box of French letters from the dispensary at school and well." Sybil shrugged.

"I thought Catholics thought French letters were a sin?"

"Is it a sin to be with someone you love more than anything and to protect any child you might have from going through what Liam and Quinlan did?" Sybil asked.

"Quinlan said French letters were against the church," Alice said quietly.

"Alice you didn't, after all those times of saying no," Sybil replied.

"I can only say he got his Christmas present a day or two early when we went to York to buy the ring," Alice said with a giggle. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me."

"It just wasn't something I could share," Sybil said. "So, how was it? Was he lovely?"

Alice nodded giggling and falling back on the bed to pull the pillow over her face and kicking her feet.

"We used almost an entire box of French letters since I've been home from school," Sybil said giggling.

"Sybil you've only been home six days and there's twenty in a box," Alice said wide-eyed and still giggling.

"I know," Sybil replied giggling. "It was awfully fun. Do you want to me my maid of honor? We are getting married at the end of February."

"I would be insulted if you asked anyone else," Alice replied. She suddenly got more serious. "What about your parents? Do you think they'll forgive you?"

"I hope so. I got a long lecture last night after Liam took his things to Uncle Kieran's. I don't think we'll have a chance for much more than sitting together at church until the wedding."

"Still just think of the honeymoon," Alice said starting to giggle again. You'll need two boxes of French letters instead of one."

"Here take the rest of this box," Sybil said digging in her drawer and handing Alice the box of condoms. "They might come in handy and don't listen to him. Liam protested at first too. You don't want a baby before you finish school. I won't need any for the next two months."

Both girls started to snigger as if they were drunk.

"Two weddings to plan instead of one," Alice said. "Yours is going to be huge."

"No, it will be small with just family. They'll be too embarrassed to have more people there."

"You must be joking. Grandmamma, Aunt Mary and Mama were already starting to plan before we left. It's going to be a lavish affair if they have anything to do with it," Alice said.

"We already know it will be Catholic," Sybil replied feeling better than she had since yesterday.

"Yes and Catholic," Alice replied thoughtfully.

-0-

"Well, how did it go?" Lillian asked her husband later when he returned from his brother's.

"Better than it did yesterday," Tom replied. "I do remember when Sybil's mother and I were first engaged. I thought her father was a pompous, blowhard, hard hearted, jackass. Then I turn into exactly what I despised once I felt my daughter was threatened."

"We have three more daughters. Are you going to feel the same way when they get older and find beaus?"

"Probably," Tom replied hugging Lillian while she had her arms around his waist. "I told Liam he could move home after the wedding."

"That would be for the best," Lillian replied. "Sybil was visiting with Alice while you were gone. They made up."

"Good. Now I guess it's my turn," Tom said sighing.

"Yes, it is," Lillian said snuggling against his chest. "You know the day you proposed to me it was all I could do not to rip your clothes off right then and there. My mouth was saying no but everything else was saying yes."

"We had a lot more restraint than they do."

"We were older. They're young. Were you any better at their age?"

"No, not one bit," Tom said looking sheepish. "I'll go up and talk to her in a bit."

"Now," Lillian said.

Tom gave her a quick peck. "Now," he repeated before he headed for the stairs.

-0-

"Are you here for another lecture, Da?" Sybil asked once her father was standing in her room.

"No, I'm here to tell you I understand," her father replied. "I've told Liam he can move home after the wedding."

"Oh, Daddy," Sybil said starting to cry. She ran to her father to throw her arms around him. "I'm so sorry we broke our promise and didn't tell you we wanted to get married last summer."

"Hush now, you aren't the only one who has made mistakes," her father said. The tears were starting to come to his eyes as well. "I just wish you had trusted me enough to tell me sooner."

"Liam didn't want to tell you without anything behind him. He wanted to have his company at least started so he could prove he could take care of me."

"And what did you want?" her father asked.

"I wanted to tell you and for you to be happy for me," Sybil replied still snuffling.

"You know you've been playing a dangerous game."

"I was careful. Well most of the time," Sybil corrected. "We really were going to tell you tomorrow."

"I know that."

"We didn't plan any of this. Things just happened."

"In Ireland?"

Sybil nodded against her father.

"I do love him very much. He's kind and patient and good to everyone. He always makes sure everyone else is taken care of."

"I know. Liam is the kindest most patient man I've ever met. Now one more thing," Tom said. He wiped his daughter's face with his hanky, and then handed it to her to blow her nose. "No more lies and no more sneaking around."

"I promise," Sybil replied.

"You're very like your mother," Tom said. "I loved her a great deal."

"Did you and my mother really sneak around for two years?"

"Sort of. I asked her to run away with me and she kept me waiting for two years. Then we were engaged for almost two months before we told anyone and left for Ireland. We even tried to elope once but it didn't work out."

"That's a lot worse than anything we did," Sybil said thoughtfully.

"What can I say? When you're in love you see things differently," her father said.

"Do you want to see my pictures of the trip last summer? This time I'll tell you about some of the things we left out," Sybil asked. _"Except for the really personal details,"_ she added inside her head.

"Of course," Tom replied. "Nothing too shocking I hope."

"We sang in a pub for our dinner," Sybil said with a giggle.

"Was it a good time?" her father asked.

Sybil nodded smiling and opening her book once her father was seated beside her on the bed.

"I love you Daddy," she said.

"I love you too, Sibby," he replied.

-0-

"What time do you have to be back?" Quinlan asked Alice between kisses. He had volunteered to drive her back to nursing college the day before New Year's. She had shifts at the hospital starting the next day as part of her winter term.

"Curfew is in four hours," she mumbled against his mouth. They were stopped in a stand of trees on a side road on the way into York where the snow wasn't too deep.

"Time enough for me to make you feel very, very good," he said suggestively.

"It's cold in here," Alice replied. She had already slid her hand between the buttons of his shirt and undershirt.

"I brought blankets. They're in the back seat," he replied running his hand up her skirt and nuzzling the base of her throat.

"A very tempting offer, Mr. Branson," Alice replied relishing the feel of his fingers against the flesh at the top of her stockings and gasping when he brushed a sensitive spot. "I brought something myself," she gasped slipping the box of French letters into his hand.

"Alice I told you I don't want to use those," Quinlan mumbled against the skin of her neck and tossing the packet on the dashboard.

"I don't want to have a baby right now and you shouldn't either," Alice replied trying her best to stand her ground.

"Of course I want children," he said shifting his attention to her earlobe.

"I do too but only after we are married. It's a French letter or you wait until next summer," Alice finally managed to gasp out. His hand was doing provocative things to the skin around the edge of her drawers.

"Those things are a sin," he said starting to work on the opening to her blouse.

"And what we're doing isn't?" she asked.

"Mmm, alright you win, we'll try it," Quinlan said giving in.

They climbed over the seat laughing and giggling. Alice reached for the box of condoms only to have him pull her back and bite her backside through the fabric of her dress provocatively.

"Oh no you don't, Mr. Branson," she said with a squeal. Her fingers finally closed around the box and she brought them into the back seat and put them on the floor. After much squirming, shifting of positions, giggling and experimenting in the back seat they managed to get everything where it was supposed to go. Alice had reminded him twice about the box on the floor before Quinlan had reluctantly reached for it and placed the condom awkwardly on his private parts.

"How do you get it off?" Alice questioned after they were done. "They showed us at school how it goes on, but not how it comes off."

"I don't know. It isn't like I've ever used one before," Quinlan replied looking ruefully at the condom that was still covering his privates.

"Try pulling it off," she suggested taking ahold of the rubber and tugging it a bit. When it didn't move she let go only to have the rubber snap back.

"Ouch, that hurt," Quinlan squealed.

"Then you figure it out," Alice said.

"HOLY CHRIST!" Quinlan said as he rolled the condom off catching some pubic hair in it and yanking it out by the roots.

"I like it better without," he said moodily after he had disposed of the used condom and they were lying together wrapped in the blankets.

"So do I, but I like not having to worry better," Alice replied.

"Only until we are wed," he bargained.

"Mmm, I can agree to that," she said burrowing a little closer for warmth.

"Have you thought much about the wedding plans?" he asked.

"Sybil and Liam's wedding rather pushed them out of my mind," Alice said dreamily breathing in the scent of his aftershave while her fingers played with the hair at the base of his throat.

"We should go talk to the priest next time you're home," Quinlan said thoughtfully.

"Quinlan. I'm not Catholic," Alice replied. "Besides you're a protestant really."

"I am not," he said. "Where did you get that idea?"

"In Ireland. You were born a Protestant."

"And I became a Catholic when I was adopted. My parents and my grandparents are Catholics and it's important to them and to me."

"I didn't know you felt so strongly," Alice said pushing herself up and getting a serious look on her face.

"Hey now, we can talk about this and find a solution," Quinlan replied pulling her back down to lie against him.

"Quinlan, this is serious. I don't know if I could ever follow the teachings of a Pope," Alice said.

"You can't go to a church who's head is a Pope, but you can go to one who's head is a King?" Quinlan questioned.

"I never thought about it like that," Alice replied. "If I don't convert what are our options?"

"I'm not sure. We could get married by a judge."

"What about children?"

"What about them. We have them, we love them and we raise them."

"Quinlan, we have to work these things out. What church we'll attend. What religion we are going to raise our children."

"That's easy. Catholic like my family."

"Or Church of England like mine."

"Alice," Quinlan sighed. "What's gotten into you?"

"You, this, us, what we just did," Alice replied. "French letters break. They aren't one hundred percent effective. I could be carrying your baby from before. We don't know. These details are important."

"Are they more important than us spending our lives together?" Quinlan asked. He was hurt and trying not to show it. He wasn't sure why her attitude bothered him so much but it did.

"No, I plan to spend the rest of my life with you and have your children one day. I just think we need to work some things out."

"It's hard to work anything out with you at school and me working like a fool."

"It will work out," Alice said optimistically. "Oh look at the time," she said mischievously looking at Quinlan's wristwatch. "We still have two hours and there is another French letter left in the box."

"What happened to the rest of them?" Quinlan asked.

"I got them from Sybil. They were all she had left before they got caught," Alice said with a giggle. "You know what they say about Catholic boys?"

"No, what do they say?" Quinlan said starting to grin.

"They say they're very, very naughty," Alice said seductively. "Would you like to prove it?"

"I'd like to kiss every freckle on your body," he replied suggestively.

"That might be interesting," she said wiggling against him. "I have them everywhere."

"Everywhere?" he said. His eyes opened slightly wider.

"You'll just have to hunt for them and find out," she said pulling the blanket up over their heads.


	25. Love and Tears from Ireland - Part III

Love and Tears from Ireland Part III

Chapter 40 – Making Plans

"What am I going to do, Da?" Quinlan asked his father. "She doesn't know if she wants to convert and she wants a church wedding."

Kieran Branson regarded the two young men who were sitting across from him at the kitchen table while they played cards one evening in late January. Declan and Brody were playing as well. Lorna and his daughter Honor had gone out to a Ladies Aide meeting for the local hospital.

"You two are a fine pair," Kieran said. "One of you can't keep his dick in his pants and the other one picks a Protestant."

Declan was holding his cards over his mouth to hide a grin while Brody looked at his father appraisingly.

"You're just sore cause he got caught," Brody hooked his thumb at Liam who was giving his uncle an exasperated look.

Kieran was a lot slower than Liam's father to forgive him for sleeping with Sybil. Uncle Kieran had lit into him something fierce when they had gotten back after the disastrous engagement party. During the rest of the Christmas holidays whenever Sybil came over either his Aunt Lorna or Uncle Kieran were home and sometimes both. Even though he and Sybil were engaged and were to be married soon, they wouldn't allow contact of any kind including hand holding under their roof. From the stories Liam had heard of Kieran's younger days he knew they had been pretty wild, but Uncle Kieran was unforgiving when it came to his niece. Liam's only saving grace was that they had been engaged. God help any man who did wrong by Honor.

"Never mind that, what am I going to do?" Quinlan said.

"Go talk to Father Mike next time you go into Ripon," Kieran said.

"At least I picked a Catholic," Liam grumbled.

Kieran slammed his fist on the table so hard the cards bounced.

"That Catholic girl happens to be my niece so you just hold your tongue," he said pointing a finger at Liam.

"We got the contract with Enfield, Da," Quinlan said trying to change the subject. Quinlan and Liam had been negotiating with Royal Enfield since last summer to redesign the existing suspension system on one of their motorcycles, or as Quinlan referred to it, _"their non-existent suspension system."_

"We hired a good lawyer to look over the contracts and plug any loop holes. It took almost all the cash we had but if all goes well we should pull in a good fee and decent royalties," Liam said.

"So how do you plan to survive until you see a few pounds from that?" Kieran inquired. He was ever the practical businessman and wanted to make sure they were going in the right direction since part of his business depended on how well Liam and Quinlan did.

"We have the eight cars ready for sale and six motor bikes in storage we can unload this spring for a tidy profit. Plus we get an advance on the contract as soon as they deliver the prototype bike for us to work on," Quinlan replied.

"I'm going over to Malton to talk to the taxi company tomorrow," Liam said. "They're looking for a couple new cars and we have two late model ones they might take off our hands. Remember we got them cheap from the owner of that packing house before he went under."

"I remember. Wasn't he the one who gambled away his business?" Kieran asked.

"That's the one," Liam replied.

"Hm, well, see if you can negotiate a maintenance contract with them at the same time," Kieran replied thoughtfully. For all Liam had made him mad, the boy was a savvy businessman and could charm the birds from the trees when he wanted to.

"I'll give it a go," Liam said. "I'm a little anxious about the design contract. If it works out, we'll be able to start to build a portfolio and design full time, but it's going to take effort and a lot of trading to keep us afloat until that time comes around."

"And you'll both have families to support," Kieran reminded them.

"I don't see what good talking to a priest is going to do," Quinlan said thoughtfully. He was still thinking about his and Alice's religion issues. "The man's probably never gotten laid in his life. Brody here has probably seen more action than him."

"Me?" Brody said when his father turned to look at him. "What about Declan? He's the one all the girls go for."

Declan pulled a card from the pack, discarded and laid his cards on the table. "Rummy, I win," he said. His Da, brother's and cousin were all looking at him waiting for a comment. "What can I say," he said shrugging his shoulders and smiling with huge dimples. "Girls will do anything for cheese. Who knew?"

His father and the others burst out laughing, with his father ruffling his hair.

"So did you coax her with a slice of cheese?" Kieran asked Liam with a cocked eyebrow still laughing at his younger son's statement.

"I think it was squashed meat pie and a bottle of ale," Liam replied blushing and laughing.

"Mine was a box of Christmas candy," Quinlan added.

"I always found a can of motor oil for the girl's father's car worked wonders," Kieran said still laughing.

"I don't get it," Brody replied looking at his father, older brother and cousin as if they had gone mad.

"You will son, you will," his father said.

-0-

"It was a nice wedding wasn't it?" Quinlan asked Alice after Liam and Sybil had left the reception for their wedding for a small hotel in Ripon. Sybil only had two days off from training college and their honeymoon would be a short one.

"It was a nice wedding," Alice agreed. "Even though it rained. She looked beautiful."

"He was nervous," Quinlan said. They were sitting in a corner of the library away from the few remaining guests. "Do you think our wedding will be something like this?"

"It could be," Alice replied. "But we're getting married in summer. We could have the reception outside."

"What about the church?" Quinlan said looking at the glass of champagne in his hand and waiting for her reply.

Alice sighed.

"Do you really want to talk about this now?" she asked.

"We need to talk about it sometime," Quinlan replied quietly. "I'm not going to give up my religion. My parents have given me everything. It would devastate them."

Alice nodded her understanding.

"I still have some very strong reservations about joining the Catholic faith. I wonder how Uncle Tom and his first wife got around the difference in their faiths?" Alice questioned.

"They got permission from the Bishop," Quinlan replied. "You only have to be a baptized Christian if one party is Catholic to be married in the Catholic Church. Apparently she didn't care for religion one way or another."

"From what Mama says the two of them were quite rebellious when they were together and made up their own rules," Alice said. "I guess Sybil gets it from her parents."

"Don't change the subject, Alice. Why don't you come to church with me tomorrow and we can at least talk to the priest? You can make up your mind after that. I know you want a church wedding but I would prefer it be in the Catholic Church."

"And what religion will our children be?"

"Hopefully Catholic like their father," Quinlan replied.

"Quinlan!" Alice replied in exasperation. "Don't you think your natural father wanted you to be a Protestant like him?"

"He's not here to tell me and I have no way of knowing," he replied. "You know I don't believe in the monarchy and I won't attend a church with a King as its head."

"Just one with an elected official who might as well be a King," Alice replied.

"This is getting us no where. Will you at least come with me tomorrow?"

"Yes, I'll come. After church you'll have to drive me back to school though."

"We could take the same route we took last time," he leaned forward and whispered in her ear.

"First you pray and then you commit a sin?" Alice whispered back with a playful smile.

Quinlan shrugged. "I'll go to confession… Please?" he wheedled.

"If we have time," Alice replied blushing.

-0-

"If I don't help out down at the garage, I never get to see my husband," Sybil said to Alice in mid-July 1938 while they were sitting by their favorite swimming hole on a Sunday afternoon. Sybil was home from training college for six weeks. The only thing that had really changed at home was that she and Liam now shared what had been her old room at their parent's house.

"They are working awfully hard," Alice said. "I hardly see Quinlan either. He didn't even want to take any time off for the honeymoon. You know I had to do a lot of convincing just to get him to take four days off for a quick trip to Brighton."

"We knew they were ambitious when we agreed to marry them," Sybil replied.

"What sort of things do they have you doing?" Alice inquired. Quinlan and Liam ran their business from an office in the corner of the building Kieran rented for his garage. They had the cars for sale parked in a vacant lot they had rented nearby and had another large shed that at one time had been a livestock barn where they stored motorcycles in the winter and projects they were working on.

"I answer the telephone for Uncle Kieran and for them, make appointments, send out invoices, collect money and filing. It's all general office work. I even managed to sell a car on my own" Sybil replied proudly. "They have that short contract they took on after the one for Enfield and they have to get it done for the end of July. Liam got up last night at four o'clock in the morning and went back to work."

Sybil twiddled some grass thoughtfully.

"Did you think we would both get married and wind up living with our parents?" Sybil said.

"I never thought I would get married in a Catholic Church, let alone living at the Abbey with my husband. I thought Grandpapa was going to have a stroke when I told him where I would be getting married," Alice replied. "We still haven't agreed on what we are going to do when we have children."

"Being raised Catholic isn't the end of the world," Sybil said with a laugh. "It's just boring."

"Sybil, you're terrible," Alice laughed.

"Well, it is," Sybil replied. "Church is all in Latin and then the sermon is always the same. _You will burn in hell if you have impure thoughts_," she said in an ominous voice, then collapsed in fit of laughter. "I saw the priest staring down Gwen Smith's blouse during the service last week."

"Isn't she that girl from grammar school with the huge bust?" Alice asked.

"That's the one," Sybil said with a smile. "It's all silly. I don't think any priest or minister knows any more about God than the other." She added suddenly sobering. "Are you getting many hours at the hospital?"

"A few," Alice replied. "I get some here at the village hospital and I'm on call for the hospital in Ripon as well, so between the two I get three or four days a week most of the time."

"Lillian says there is a push on to get the age when children are allowed to leave school raised to fifteen," Sybil said thoughtfully. "It would mean an end to children being apprenticed when they are very young the way Quinlan was. The orphanages will have to educate the children they have."

"Are you still thinking about working with orphans?" Alice asked.

"I am. I'm used to children and taking care of them. I'm not too fond of nursing and emptying bedpans and changing dressings. I suppose you have to do that too if you work on a children's ward but getting some old man to take his pills is not what I want to do."

"But there aren't any orphanages close by except for the one in Ripon."

"I've been thinking we should change that," Sybil replied thoughtfully. "Crawley House is sitting empty. It has seven bedrooms plus four servant's quarters. It doesn't look like Aunt Mary and Uncle Matthew are going to move back anytime soon or live there if they do."

"You're point being?" Alice asked.

Sybil rolled over onto her stomach.

"Think about it Alice. We could live there, me and Liam and you and Quinlan. It could be a foundling home, a small one. We could have bunk beds in some of the rooms and dress up the old servant's quarters. There's a big kitchen and a garden perfect for children."

"And how are you planning to finance this venture?" Alice asked.

"I don't know all the details yet," Sybil said. "Just think about it. We all had hand me down clothes and the younger ones are still passing clothes from person to person, we'll you didn't but I did and my sisters are still wearing some of my old things. How hard can it be to clothe and feed a few children? We live in the middle of an estate and the family owns the largest farm in the district plus the only cannery and there is a school. We'll still need money but less than the orphanages that don't have any of the advantages we do."

"It sounds awfully ambitious," Alice said wrinkling her brow and looking doubtful.

"Aunt Edith started the cannery and the brewery and she didn't know anything about either one when she started. Mama knows a great deal. She would help I'm sure of it. There are so many evacuees coming out of Austria and Czechoslovakia right now the orphanages and refugee centers are filled to overflowing and everyone is talking about a war coming. Even if we only took a few children in to start it would be better than nothing."

"I don't know. Papa and Grandpapa are both saying war is on the horizon but they're hoping it doesn't come," Alice sighed and thought for a moment, "Have you talked to Liam about this idea? How would I live in an orphanage and take care of children? I don't know how to cook? If there is a war and supplies become hard to find how would we feed them?"

Sybil thought for a few minutes. "I don't have the answers to all the questions about how to run an orphanage, and no, I haven't talked to Liam yet, but I'm sure he'll agree and he is wonderful with children," Sybil replied.

"He could recite a rhyme backwards and you would think he's wonderful," Alice sighed. "But you're right he is good with children."

"So do you want to help me get things organized and create our own jobs?"

"You know we'll never get rich doing this?" Alice said.

"Our husbands are working on that part for us. Besides we'll be helping the less fortunate. Maybe we'll become Saints," Sybil said jokingly. "Come on, lets go talk to our husbands then we can start work on some ideas. There is a family management meeting for the estate tomorrow. I looked in Da's schedule book. We can talk to Grandpapa and the rest of them then."

"I hope I'm not going to regret getting drug into this scheme," Alice said.

"Do you regret me talking you into the trip to Ireland last year or going swimming in the nude?" Sybil asked archly.

"Not one bit," Alice replied with a smile. "Although seeing my brother in the buff was a little unnerving."

"He is rather attractive," Sybil commented. Alice knew what was coming next.

"Just not as pretty as Liam," both girls said in unison then laughed as the collected their towels and headed into the village to talk to their husbands.

* * *

Chapter 41 – Three Pews Full

"Did you hear the news on the radio?" Lillian said to Sybil when she telephoned her at the nursing college in late November 1938.

"No, what news?" Sybil asked.

"Viscount Samuel was on the BBC Home Service last night. They are evacuating the Jewish orphanages and children of parents who are political prisoners in Austria and Czechoslovakia. They're bringing children from Poland as well. Two hundred children are expected to arrive on December 2 at Harwich. They're expecting over two thousand later in the month and they think there will be up to ten thousand children evacuated over the next few months. Viscount Samuel was putting out an appeal for people to take children into their homes."

"Mama that's horrible, where are they going to go?" Sybil could hear the urgency and worry in her mother's voice.

"I don't know," Lillian replied, "but we've decided to open the orphanage here early. We can at least take a few."

"Do you want me to come home?" Sybil asked.

"No. You need to finish your training. You can help when you're home over Christmas. I just wanted you to know. Thank goodness it is the slow season for the cannery and the farm. We'll have help and both Aunt Edith and Uncle John speak fluent German. I speak French, but I doubt we'll have any French children."

"This is going to be difficult. I barely speak any German besides, please pass the sugar and the flowers are lovely in your garden today, but I agree. We must do something. It's just too horrible."

"Sybil, I just don't know when this madness on the continent is going to end, but we can't stand by and do absolutely nothing. Take care, dear one. We'll see you at Christmas."

-0-

"How are things at Crawley House?" Sybil asked Liam once they were settled in the car and headed home from the nursing college in York two days before Christmas.

"Busy," he said. "I haven't been over there much. I thought I'd wait until you got home before I moved over."

"How are Quinlan and Alice doing?" Sybil asked.

"He's hardly getting any sleep staying there. They have twenty children at the moment. From what I understand the group running the evacuation is Jewish but their taking children who are at risk regardless of religion. Most of the children Mama and Alice have had come to the orphanage aren't Jewish, but there are one or two. The ones at Downton are almost all from families who parents were jailed for their political views. Apparently the organizers are setting up hostel groups for the children who are from orthodox Jewish families or trying to place them with Jewish families here. Mostly the children are just scared and don't understand why they are in a strange place where no one speaks their language."

"Do you want to move in now or wait until I'm done my training?" Sybil asked.

"I'd rather wait," Liam replied. "But we could spell Alice and Quinlan off. Give them the time you're home to sleep either at the Abbey or at Willowbrook House with Mama and Da."

"We only ever planned to start with ten for the first year and then we weren't planning to open until next summer," Sybil said worriedly.

"Never mind," Liam replied with a sigh. "They're children who need help. We're fortunate Mama has had experience with orphanages all these years. She's already sent all kinds of letters of inquiry looking for family members who can care for the children in the UK or America."

"What is going on over there in Europe, that it's come to this?" Sybil questioned.

"I don't know, but whatever it is can't be good," Liam replied.

Liam dropped Sybil off with the car at Crawley House in case she needed it then went to work. Lillian, Alice and Lorna were at the house along with Honor who was helping out with some of the younger children.

"I'm so glad you're here," Alice said when she saw Sybil at the front door.

"How are things?" Sybil asked. "Liam said you aren't getting much sleep."

"That is the least of our problems. Things are rather chaotic," Alice said. "We have ten children from Czechoslovakia, two from Austria and eight from Poland. They range in age from two to thirteen. We don't speak the language and they can't all understand each other. Two of them speak Yiddish so they can understand each other and the two who speak German. One or two understand some English. They translate a bit but it takes forever to get anything accomplished."

"It sounds as though English lessons are in order," Sybil said. She spotted Honor sitting on the floor in the drawing room by the Christmas tree, trying to teach some younger children a few simple words in English.

"Blocks," Honor said showing them one of her old toys she had brought over.

"Blowks," one of the girls repeated in a heavy accent.

"That's right, blocks" Honor said then pointed to another item and said the name trying to get the group of five younger children to repeat the word.

By the time Sybil headed over to Willowbrook House that evening she was exhausted.

"We'll spell Quinlan and Alice off tomorrow for the holidays," she told Liam with a smile. "I want to spend a night with my husband first."

He smiled and nodded then headed to the washroom to get cleaned up for bed. When he returned he found Sybil fast asleep on her side of the bed.

"Merry Christmas, love," he said as he got into bed and kissed her on the cheek.

-0-

"What do we do for Christmas Day?" Alice asked. Lillian, Sybil and she were together on Christmas Eve trying to make plans for the next day.

"I think we should take them to the village church for the services in the morning," Lillian replied. "I've asked Lady Grantham to get together a simple gift for each of the children. It's the best we can do."

"Quinlan won't like going to a Protestant church for services," Alice said warily.

"Too bad," Sybil replied. "There are Lutherans, Catholics, Baptists and Jews in the group. Grandmamma brought over an old menorah she brought with her from New York for Hanukah and did the prayers she could remember with two children. Most of the others joined in. We can't take them all to the Church in Ripon. There are too many. We'll make do with what we have on hand and that includes a church in walking distance."

Just then thirteen-year-old Anya knocked on the door to the room they were using as an office.

"Seebyl, can go sleeding?" she asked.

"Who wants to go with you?" Sybil inquired slowly so Anya could understand her better.

"Anton, Gunter and Gretel, go too."

"That's fine," Sybil replied. "Be back for three o'clock." Sybil took out a wristwatch from the drawer and pointed to the three. "Three o'clock." She gave the watch to Anya.

Anya nodded her head vigorously.

"Three," she repeated heavily rolling the r and dropping the h.

A few minutes later they spotted the four children ranging in ages from eleven to thirteen getting two sleds from the shed in the back garden and heading for the hill that was popular with the local children.

"What are we going to do about education? We can't send them to the local school in January. They can barely communicate," Sybil said.

"We'll have to set up some English lessons and teach them ourselves until they can manage in an English classroom," Lillian replied. "For now the priority is to find any family they may have and help them to cope in their new land."

"My priority is to find enough for us to eat," Alice said. "We have double the amount of children we were planning on and no supplies put by since we weren't planning on opening yet. Next fall we will be in better shape but for right now it's a stretch."

"I'll talk to my husband to see if there is anything left from the farm that didn't get sold last fall. I'll stop by the cannery too," Lillian said making a note. "It might be best to get a milk cow over from the dairy and keep it in the old stable or clear out one of the sheds, then you would have a steady supply of milk and cream."

"I'll have the older boys work on getting a stall cleaned out right after Christmas," Sybil said. "We should probably think about having a chicken coop as well."

"Must we," Alice said wrinkling her nose.

"Alice you said yourself supplies are getting harder and harder to come by. The children can help with milking and gathering eggs as well as feeding the animals," Sybil replied.

"Hopefully, we'll hear back from some of their relatives soon," Lillian said. "I'm going to go and gather a bunch of the children for some music time. They should know some of the more traditional carols, even if they sing in a different language."

Alice and Sybil went about various tasks for the rest of the afternoon until their husbands showed up. Some of the younger children ran to Quinlan when he came in wanting him to play a game with them. Two little ones were terribly shy and hid behind a chair when they saw Liam as they had seen less of him.

Sybil went to greet her husband and let him know the arrangements they had made for taking the children to church in the morning.

"It is rather different, isn't it?" Liam said. "Are you looking forward to our first night here?"

"Christmas Eve is quite the night to chose to start," Sybil replied with a grin. "We'll make do."

"Of course we will," Liam replied. "I don't suppose we are having roast beef for dinner as we usually do on Christmas Eve."

"Thick soup and buns, I'm afraid," Sybil replied. "It stretches the meat a lot further with this many mouths to feed."

"Soup and buns it is," Liam replied. "He went and got a story book off a shelf with lots of pictures then settled on the sofa in the drawing room. It wasn't long and he had a group of children hanging on him looking at the pictures in the book. Even the two who had been hiding soon came out to see the pictures and listen to the story. One of them crawled onto his lap.

"My angel," Sybil said softly when she saw him with the group of children a little while later.

-0-

"Two hours to get everyone settled last night," Sybil told Alice when she arrived early the next morning. Alice and Quinlan had a basket of gifts with each child's name on it for under the tree.

"You're doing well," Alice replied. "It took almost six hours the first night they were here. We couldn't find much for presents. Ginger cookies for the little ones, a pair of socks for each of the boys, mittens for the girls and a piece of Christmas candy for each."

"It's enough," Sybil said.

Her parents, Ronan, Aideen, Branna and Lilly arrived to stay with the two Jewish children while the others went to church.

"Happy Christmas, Da, Mama," Sybil greeted them.

Once everyone was dressed, Sybil, Alice and both of their husbands headed over to the village church with eighteen children in tow.

"I can't believe I'm doing this," Quinlan grumbled.

"They way I can't believe I got married in a Catholic Church," Alice replied with an arched look.

"OK you win, I'll behave," Quinlan said as Alice threw a blob of snow at him. She quickly found out starting a snowball fight with eighteen children wasn't a good idea. They were all covered with snow and slightly damp by the time they arrived at the church almost late and filed in. They filled three rows of pews all on their own. There were some odd looks from a few of the villagers but the majority smiled and nodded as they took their seats.

After lunch they assembled the children in the drawing room around the tree and handed out the gifts. If any of the children were disappointed they didn't show it. The two children who hadn't attended church received gifts as well.

"I brought a gift for everyone," Tom said. It took a few minutes for the children who could understand to translate for everyone else. "Get you coat and shoes on and meet at the back door."

There was a great deal of scurrying about and excitement as the children assembled. They all went outside to see a dairy cow tied just inside the old stable plus a stack of hay bales and two bales of straw. Anton and one of the other boys, Gregor dashed forward and started patting the cow. They had both lived on farms and were used to animals.

It took a little while to arrange the children to clean out one of the stalls and lay a fresh bed of straw as well as fill the manger with hay and fill a bucket of water. The children were all so excited about the cow the actual chores were done in a flash once they understood what to do.

"It's a wonderful present, Da. Thank you," Sybil said hugging her father. Alice was still wrinkling her nose slightly at the prospect of having livestock to care for but at the same time was happy that at least a milk supply for the children had been secured.

By the time Sybil was ready to head back to college two of the children's distant relations had been located in Southern Ireland and were on their way to pick them up and distant cousins living in Scotland had retrieved another three. Almost as fast as the five children had found relatives they had requests to take ten more from the orphanage in Ripon, which was so overcrowded, some children had to sleep on pallets on the floor.

More beds had to be found which included raiding the old servant's quarters at the Abbey and turning one of the old servant rooms they had been using for storage back into a bedroom. By the time Sybil went back to her nursing college for the beginning of winter term she was worn out.

"I can't believe I would ever say this, but I think I'm too tired to kiss you goodbye," Sybil said against Liam's chest while he was hugging her goodbye when he dropped her off.

"Things will be in a routine by the time you get back again," Liam said. "It will all work out. For now I'll have to kiss you and let you off easy."

"You're such an angel," she said against him dreamily.

"Don't you forget it," he said as he kissed her goodbye.

* * *

Chapter 42- Echoes from the Past

"Quinlan, there's a man here to see you," Brody called.

Quinlan straightened up from the motorcycle he was repairing. It was early August 1939 and he was working near the doors of the shop. Liam was off in Coventry talking to a vehicle manufacturer about them doing some design work. Quinlan had his doubts about the prospect but it didn't cost anything but time to listen to what they wanted.

"Who is it? Did he say?" Quinlan asked as he went to wash his hands.

"Some bloke in a suit. I put him in your office," Brody said.

Quinlan quickly pulled on his jacket and tie from where he had left them on a hook in the shop before he headed into the office to see what the man wanted.

"Hello, I'm Quinlan Branson. How can I help you?" Quinlan greeted the man who was sitting in the office on a spare chair holding his briefcase on his lap. The man rose when Quinlan entered.

"Dalaigh Mac Cormaic of Mac Cormaic and Sons," the man introduced himself.

"What has brought you here to Downton, Mr. Mac Cormaic? Quinlan inquired.

"Are you Quinlan O'Callaghan formerly of Ballyclaire, Northern Ireland?"

Quinlan was so startled he jumped in his chair from where he was seated.

"And who might like to know?" he replied narrowing his eyes and looking at Mr. Mac Cormaic closely.

"I'm only at liberty to discuss my business with Mr. O'Callaghan personally," Mr. Mac Cormaic said.

"Well, you've found him, and the name is Branson," Quinlan replied tightly. "My surname was changed thirteen years ago."

"Mr. Branson, I'm here at the request of your grandfather, James Nolan Brady. He would like to see you."

"He does, does he," Quinlan said, his voice rising in a flash of anger. All the hurt and pain he had felt while standing on the man's driveway two years previously came back in a rush. "You can tell the old prick, I'm busy and don't have the time."

"Mr. Brady said you might feel that way. I have his authority to offer you a substantial amount to make this happen."

"You what!" Quinlan yelled.

"Mr. Brady is prepared to offer you the sum of ten thousand pounds if you will meet with him," Mr. Mac Cormaic replied calmly.

Kieran had come to door of the office to see what the commotion was about. Brody was hovering about trying to find out what was going on, but not make it look too obvious.

"Do you need a hand with anything, Quinlan?" Kieran inquired.

"It seems my dear maternal grandfather has suddenly found a conscientious and wants to see me," Quinlan snarled.

"Oh, I see," Kieran said with his face setting and his jaw clenched. "What's brought this on after all these years?"

"I don't give a damn," Quinlan shot back in a loud voice.

"Mr. Brody is dying and wants to meet his heir before he dies," Mr. Mac Cormaic said completely unfazed.

"His what?" Kieran replied in shock. "All these years he couldn't look at the boy or do right by him. Now he suddenly wants to see him and make him his heir? Now that he's running his own business and married with a babe on the way?"

"You can tell him I don't want to see him and furthermore you can tell him what he can do with his money. If he wants to see me that bad he can get off his old boney arse and come down here to see me," Quinlan said. "I have work to do, Mr. Mac Cormaic. You'll have to excuse me." He got up and walked out the office door leaving his father to deal with Mr. Mac Cormaic.

"Here is my card, should Mr. Branson have a change of heart," Mr. Mac Cormaic said handing his card to Kieran and leaving another on Quinlan's desk. "I'll be at the Grand Hotel in Ripon until noon tomorrow when I depart for Belfast."

"I'll speak to my son. We know where to contact you if Quinlan decides he wants to see his grandfather," Kieran said. _"Don't hold your breath,"_ he thought before he showed the man out.

-0-

"The government regulations for these children are ridiculous," Sybil complained to Lillian that same afternoon. "We have three boys all aged seventeen. One was going to university before he and his parents were detained. None of them know where their parents are or their relatives. The government refuses to fund their care beyond the age of eighteen. Jacob will be eighteen in just a few months. What is he supposed to do? He barely speaks English. Levi should be going back to university but his records are lost. They're not supposed to work. Are we to put them on the street without a penny to their names?"

"It's no different than what's been happening all along," Lillian replied. "It's just lucky they needed help at the cannery so they can all have summer jobs under different names."

"I know. It's rather ludicrous isn't it? The Smith brothers working at the local cannery and all amazingly have Czech accents," Sybil said shaking her head. "I just hope they don't get caught. At least they'll each have a few pounds to their names when the time comes for them to leave."

"I haven't had much success finding relatives for the last group," Lillian said. "It's as though their families have been wiped from the earth. Their stories are all so similar. Either their parents disappeared in the night and they were sent to an orphanage or they remember soldiers coming to arrest the family and then were separated at some kind of camp. They've brought over almost fifteen thousand on the Kindertransport so far and they say there are still thousands more waiting."

"We have eighteen now with no family and nowhere to go," Sybil replied. "We'll have ten able to start at the village school this fall. That leaves the three older boys who need English lessons before they turn eighteen and five younger ones who will need care through the day. The other six who just arrived can go to school once their English improves."

"Is running an orphanage what you thought it would be?" Lillian asked her stepdaughter. Sybil looked tired since she had returned from nursing college this spring.

"It's much harder than I thought. We had planned to start small which would have been much easier and really not that much different than a house full of younger brothers and sisters, but this." Sybil sighed. "There are so many problems. Some of the younger ones keep asking when their parents will come for them. Others like Anya seem to think their parents are dead. Not to mention the issues around religion. Thank goodness the older ones take care of the animals and help out with the heavy chores."

"At least the majority are Christian, even if they are all from different denominations" Lillian replied. "There is no way for us to accommodate the Jewish children and there is no Synagogue or Jewish community close by." Lillian paused for a minute. "What else is worrying you?"

"War. The papers say it could be any day now. Liam and Quinlan and the other boys are still citizens of Northern Ireland and are exempt conscription for now, but what if they decide to sign up. Peter had a terrible row with his father. He finally agreed to wait until if and when war is declared before he joins."

"He's twenty-one and finished his degree. His father can't stop him, but it is a worry," Lillian agreed.

"I'm worried Liam will decide to go as well. You can't be around these children and not be concerned for what is going on in their countries. People just don't disappear in the middle of the night without a trace," Sybil said.

"What about Quinlan? Does he feel the same way?"

"I don't know," Sybil replied. "Alice is expecting and he's so like Da and Uncle Kieran in some ways. They are so anti-monarchy and all the rest although Da tones it down in public.

"I think we need to make a short term policy," Lillian said. "We investigate family for this last group of children who just arrived and then no new intakes until next spring.

"But Mama there are so many," Sybil complained.

"There will always be many that need help," Lillian replied. "It won't help the ones you have here now if you wear yourself out and Alice is pregnant and needs regular rest. Let things stabilize a bit for a while. Then you can take a few more next spring if you have room."

"Yes, you're right," Sybil agreed seeing the wisdom in her mother's logic. "I'm sure Alice will agree as well."

-0-

"I think you should do it," Kieran said that evening at a family meeting in the sitting room of Kieran and Lorna's cottage. Quinlan and Alice were over to discuss the events of the afternoon.

"Da, have you lost your senses?" Quinlan replied. "He left me to rot in that hell hole and you know what I went through. I don't owe him a damn thing."

"Quinlan, language," Alice said. She was sitting beside her husband holding his hand in both of hers.

"It's not for him. It's for you," Kieran said. "See if you can force him to give you your parents wedding picture if one exists and see what you can find out about your father's family. Tell him exactly what you think of him for abandoning you. There's something else as well." Kieran paused. "You're going to be a Da soon and it looks like this war is going to happen whether anyone likes it or not. You don't remember the last one. You were too little. Times were hard. There wasn't any food in the stores. After the war was finished men were left by the sides of the roads with no jobs, no food, nothing. He's offering a substantial amount. Take it. Put it away. You don't have to touch it but if anything ever happens Alice and the baby will be taken care of."

"You're saying to sell my soul to the devil to see my family is taken care of?" Quinlan stated angrily.

"I'm saying say your piece and protect your family. You don't know what the future will bring. None of us do," Kieran replied. "If you decide to go. I'll go with you."

"Da, you can't leave the garage and I can't leave Liam on his own."

"Liam can run the business, and Brody can run the shop for a few days. He's not a bad mechanic as long as he doesn't take on any jobs that are too involved. We can see if Sybil can come over and take care of the office one or two days while we're gone. She knows what to do."

"I'm sure she'd agree," Alice said. "I can't go right now. I'm too ill in the mornings and we've decided not to take any new children at the home for the next while. I'll be fine for a few days and Liam and Sybil will be there at night."

"Are we settled then?" Kieran asked.

"I'm going to sleep on it," Quinlan replied.

"Just don't sleep too long," Kieran said.

* * *

Chapter 43 – Rations and Other Problems

"Well, doesn't he just think he's something," Kieran muttered pointing to the butler as he and Quinlan were shown into the library of the house belonging to Mr. James Nolan Brady. "I haven't seen this much highfaluting nonsense since before they got rid of the servants at the Abbey." They were following the uniformed butler to a door leading off the main entrance.

"I still think this is a bad idea," Quinlan grumbled to his father.

"You've got the check in the bank. We'll give him ten minutes. If you want to leave, we will," Kieran said placing a hand on Quinlan's shoulder to steady him. Quinlan was looking pale and hadn't been able to eat hardly a thing since they had stepped onto the train at Downton.

The door opened to reveal a dimly lit library with a fire burning in the hearth despite the fact that it was the last day of August and it was a sunny day. As their eyes adjusted to the gloom they could see there was an arm and wrinkled hand lying on the arm of one of the armchairs by the fireplace.

"Come here where I can see you," a raspy voice demanded.

"I've come this far, the least you could do is turn around and look at me you old bast…," Quinlan began.

"I've paid you a tidy sum. You walk across this room where I can see you," the raspy voice demanded. "If I could still get up and run my own affairs we would be having this conversation under different circumstances." The demand was followed by the sound of the old man clearing his throat and spitting into a handkerchief.

Kieran nodded to Quinlan and they both walked forward to where they could see a wizen old man sitting in an armchair wrapped in a robe and covered with a lap blanket. What was left of his white hair stuck out in tufts. Amongst the mass of wrinkles that made up his face were a pair of bushy white eyebrows and a hawk like nose underlined by a pair of thin lips that had little color. The most unsettling part of the entire picture were a pair of piercing blue eyes not unlike Quinlan's that seemed to look straight through the pair of them.

"Who the hell are you?" James Brody demanded.

"Kieran Branson, Quinlan's father," Kieran identified himself.

"You mean the one that took him in and gave him your name. What's the matter O'Callaghan wasn't good enough for you?" James Brody challenged.

"Why you miserable old prick," Quinlan began. "I don't know why I wasted my time coming here. We're leaving."

Kieran put a hand on Quinlan's shoulder. "Hear him out and say your piece. We have plenty of time to get to the ferry," Kieran said. Quinlan nodded his understanding.

"I want any pictures you have of my parents and I want to know if my father had any family," Quinlan stated defiantly.

"You're like your father in looks and attitude, I'll say that for you," James Brody replied. "There," he said pointing to a shelf. "The album on the end. It's all I have left of your mother. Take it."

Quinlan went to the shelf and pulled out the old photo album. He flipped it open briefly. There lying loose in the back of the album was a wedding picture of his natural parents. The man looking back up at him was almost the image of himself. He snapped the book shut and put it under his arm.

"Did my father have any family?" Quinlan demanded again.

"None that I know of," James Brody replied.

"Why did you turn your back on me?" Quinlan asked through gritted teeth.

"Pride, arrogance, stupidity, you name it I've got it in spades," James Brody replied. My representative tells me you've done well for yourself. A Master Degree in Mechanical Engineering, your own business and married to a peer."

"My wife's father and brother may inherit titles if her uncle dies without offspring," Quinlan replied. "I've worked damn hard to get where I am, no thanks to you."

"Humpf. You seem to have made out well enough in the end."

"Do you think it just happened without pain and sacrifice, you miserable old bastard? Do you have any idea what they did to me in that workhouse?"

"No and I really don't want to know. I can't change it. There's no sense dwelling on the past. What's done is done," James Brody replied. "I've asked you to come because you will be my heir and inherit my estate."

"I don't want it," Quinlan replied peevishly.

"I don't give a hoity-toity damn what you want. You're my last surviving relation. The estate is yours whether you want it or not. You're an educated man who has some business acumen. You can do with my assets as you please once they are yours."

"I don't think there is much more to say," Quinlan said turning to leave. Kieran turned to follow him out.

"I shouldn't have turned my back on your mother when she married your father and I should have taken care of you," James Brody said from his chair. "I'm sorry."

"You couldn't have said that in the first place?" Quinlan said not turning around.

"It's hard to admit when you're wrong," James Brody said. "I wish you better luck facing your mistakes in life than I have had. You can go now."

"Goodbye. I won't be back," Quinlan replied.

"I wouldn't expect that you would," James replied in his quavering voice.

Kieran glanced back over his shoulder as they left the library to see the old man hanging over the arm of his chair watching them leave and looking more shrunken than he had when they arrived.

Quinlan didn't say a word as they took the cab that had been waiting for them back to their hotel. He sat on the side of the bed and slowly flipped the pages of the old photo album that were mostly filled with a young girl in different stages of growing up. Finally Quinlan put the photo album into his suitcase and checked his wristwatch.

"Let's go get something to eat and maybe a pint or two," he said.

As they headed down the street Quinlan looked at the buildings around him, then at his father.

"Have you ever thought about moving back to Ireland, maybe the south?"

"Could never afford it," Kieran replied. "The wages there are nothing. I do better in England."

"I have a feeling in the not too distant future I'll be able to afford it if you want to move when you retire," Quinlan said. "Maybe a nice cottage on a hill overlooking the sea."

"Sounds boring," Kieran replied.

Quinlan shrugged and chuckled a bit. His Da was too much of a go-getter to ever sit still for long.

"Whatever you want Da, you'll have it."

"I want you and your brothers and sister to be happy," Kieran replied.

"We already are Da," Quinlan said as they reached the pub and went in.

-0-

"Seebil, Alyce, when we are eighteen we will go fight for our home and our family in British Army," Levi told the women late in the afternoon on September 1, 1939. The announcement of war had come earlier in the day. The other two boys Jacob and Isaac nodded their agreement. They were all seventeen years old. Levi had just started university before he was detained and spoke more English than the other two.

"You must consider what you do carefully," Sybil replied.

"You all have time before you are eighteen," Alice said. "Jacob your birthday will be first. You must work very hard on your English lessons so you can get a job or join the army. You won't be able to do either if you can't speak the language."

Levi translated and Jacob nodded his understanding.

"Alyce, I work now," Jacob said.

"Yes, but that is because the lady at the cannery is my mother and you have Levi to translate," Alice replied. He understood well enough to nod.

"Levi, the cannery will be closed in another two weeks. You must try to get back into university. You were studying to be a doctor. That is what your parents would want," Sybil said. "All parents want their children to do well."

"I want to fight," he replied stubbornly.

"The army will need many doctors," Sybil rationalized. "You need to think about it carefully. The group that brought you to England will have money to help with education, but not if you join the army right away. Czechoslovakia will need doctors after the war and so will England."

"I don't speak English well enough for doctor school," Levi replied.

"We can work on that. You won't be eighteen until next spring you have all winter," Alice said.

"I go army too. Fight Nazi," Isaac said finally.

"Isaac, you must also learn English," Alice said. "You cannot be an English soldier if you don't know the language. You must be eighteen to be a soldier. Your birthday isn't until February."

Everyone was terribly upset in the village by the announcement that England was now at war with Germany. Plans were being made. Rationing was already in place to prevent people from hoarding food, but most had been collecting extras for the entire last winter. Alice had been trying to get extra food stocked up, but with so many mouths to feed the task had been nearly impossible. To make matters worse they had quickly found out the Jewish children did not eat pork. Meals had to be worked around the requirement, which meant stretching the provisions on hand even more difficult.

"I wish Quinlan was home," Alice told Sybil after the boys had left.

"We'll, have a meeting and tell the children tonight," Sybil said. "They'll know soon enough when they get to school tomorrow. I rather they hear about the war from us."

"We should take the ones not in school to pick apples and pears tomorrow," Alice said. "We can walk to the orchard at the Abbey and back with the baskets. It will save on petrol."

"Everyone is in such a flap," Sybil agreed. "Our biggest concern remains how we feed them all."

"Marta and Sarah's Aunt will be down from Scotland in a few days," Alice said. "That will be two less. I think we should go to all the fields after each harvest and collect anything that is left. The garden this summer helped but it's still not enough."

"It will mean a great deal of work," Sybil replied.

"Most of the children can help with peeling apples and chopping things up to put in jars," Alice said. "It used to be done when there was a huge staff at the Abbey every year. We'll just have to use some of the old practices. I think apples can be kept longer if they are packed in saw dust and kept in the cellar."

"I don't like pheasant much, but we can get them from Grandpapa for nothing" Sybil replied wrinkling her nose, "and those periwinkles Anya had the other children collect from the side of the road the other day weren't overly appealing either."

"They're called escargot," Alice replied. "They were free and she was quite taken with herself for finding a meal for everyone."

"I know. I just closed my eyes and bit into it," Sybil said.

"I can't believe I was so hesitant about having animals out back," Alice replied. "Now I'm so happy we have enough milk, cream and cottage cheese we don't have to worry about it. We could use more chickens though."

"More chickens means more feed," Sybil replied.

"And more poop to clean," Alice added with a sigh.

That evening they told the children England was now at war with Germany. Most of the children were frightened the fighting would come to them and the men with the black uniforms who had taken their parents away would now be coming for them. It had taken hours of reassuring they were safe in England and multiple trips to the washroom and glasses of water before they got everyone down for the night. After the third time up for a nightmare Sybil crawled back into bed with Liam. He was lying on his back staring at the dark ceiling.

"What are you thinking about?" Sybil asked him quietly.

"Everything and nothing at the same time," he replied. "I feel like I should be doing something, but at the same time the contract we just took on is important. Don't repeat this but the company signed us so fast because they need vehicle improvements for the military."

"That makes your work essential doesn't it?" Sybil questioned.

"I have no idea," Liam replied. "I can't be conscripted because of my citizenship, but at the same time I don't feel like I can hide at home and do nothing."

"Designing vehicle components for the war effort is not doing nothing," Sybil said. "Neither is helping us with all these child refugees."

"They have enough work to keep us busy until next spring," Liam said. "Then who knows?"

"Concentrate on the contracts," Sybil urged. "Then think about things again when they're completed. Quinlan and Uncle Kieran should be back tomorrow. I'm hoping to get over and see Da for a bit and Grandmamma and Grandpapa as well."

"They should be heading to Scotland soon," Liam said.

"I don't know if they will go this year with everything happening," Sybil replied.

"Try and get some sleep before the men in the black uniforms invade another dream," Liam said quietly.

"You spoke to quickly," Sybil said as she threw back the covers and got up for yet another sound of someone crying. By the time she finished and had gone downstairs to check on the boys who slept below stairs she was worn out. She spotted Jacob carrying one of the little boys who was only two years old to the bathroom and Isaac escorting another back to bed. It was going to be a long night for everyone, the first of many if she didn't miss her guess.


	26. Love and Tears from Ireland - Part IV

Love and Tears From Ireland - Part IV

Chapter 44 – The War Office at the Door

"You will not annex my home for a military operations center," Lord Grantham informed the representative from the war office. "This house was used as an officer's convalescent home in the last war and will be again."

"Lord Grantham, I assure you the papers are in order and we are prepared to take over the house once you and your family have moved out," the man replied.

"I've told you the answer is no," Lord Grantham stated. "The house will be used as a hospital. My estate is working at maximum production to help the war effort. You will not take my home. Do not force me to telephone the Home Secretary."

The man continued to argue until Lord Grantham went to the telephone and placed a call to London.

"Hello Shrimpy? Cousin Robert here," he said. "It seems I have a man here who thinks he can annex my house. Yes, we are getting ready to open as a convalescent home. Uh hum, we miss mother terribly too. She did have a good run at ninety-eight. Yes, I see. I'll tell Cora you said hello." He turned and handed the telephone to the junior Lieutenant standing in the middle of the library looking deflated. "The Home Secretary would like a word."

It wasn't long and the young officer was driving off through the front gates with his tail between his legs. Robert Crawley was no longer a young man. It was now six months after war had been declared and the prospect of doing it all again was weighing heavily on him. Mary had moved back to the house with her two children when Matthew had been reactivated as an officer. Matthew was too old for the front lines and had been assigned to a desk position. Frederick, the current heir and Mary's son was now sixteen and a half and champing at the bit to be old enough to join up. It was taking all of their energy to convince him to stay in school and get an education. The prospect of being an officer in the future was no where near as exciting as the glory promised by the recruiters and the posters plastering every available space in every town and city.

Robert collected his hat, coat and walking stick and headed down to the village to see if Tom was in and find out about the arrangements that had been made so far for the Women's Land Army who would coming to stay and help with the estate farm. The walk was as much for getting a bit of fresh air and clearing away his irritation from the confrontation with the young Lieutenant as anything else.

As Robert passed through the village Sybil was just leaving the hospital.

"Grandpapa, how are you?" Sybil asked giving him a kiss on the cheek as they met.

"I'm fine," he replied. "What are you doing in a nurse's uniform?"

"I'm here four days a week now. Women have to register for service as well as men. Since I'm a nurse I work here part time and at the home the rest of the time," Sybil replied.

"Aren't you needed at the home?" Robert inquired.

"Yes, but I'm needed here as well. There aren't enough nurses to go around at the moment. Alice will be back to nursing as well once the baby comes and gets a bit older I'm afraid."

"Who is going to take care of the children?"

"The new vicar's wife is coming in five days a week and covering when I'm working," Sybil replied. "Mama is there as well most days."

"How many children do you have now?"

"Seventeen including Levi, but he'll be eighteen soon. He's going to go and work on one of the tenant farms for the summer, then university in the fall," Sybil replied. "He's been taking the bus to a synagogue every few weeks. He's been a Godsend with the other Jewish children. He managed to convince the small community at his synagogue to take in all the Jewish children we had and they found a family for him to stay with when he's at school."

"It all seems rather peculiar with those children," Robert replied. "Parents arrested without committing any real crimes."

"The younger ones have no idea why the police or soldiers came to their homes. The older ones remember a bit. The older boys all have said it was because of their religion, but it doesn't make sense. Some like Anya and her brother Gregor are Catholic. She remembers her father saying something about there should be a vote and he was going to a meeting to say so. The next day they came home from school and their parents were gone. The local constable came soon after and took them to an orphanage. The borders are closed now, so there won't be any more coming."

"Just the ones from the cities here in England," Robert replied with a sigh.

"Most of them are going back home soon, since there hasn't been any bombing raids. Let's go for a cup of tea, Grandpapa. Mama and Mrs. Fisher are both at Crawley House at the moment and most of the children are at school. I can spare a few minutes"

"Yes, of course," Robert agreed as Sybil took his arm. They passed the garage and workshop where Quinlan and Liam were working. They now had another two men working with them and the military had armed guards stationed outside the shop.

"The shop is busy," Robert commented.

"It is," Sybil replied. "I have no idea what they're working on. They aren't allowed to say a thing. Uncle Kieran's taken over selling the few cars they had left. The motorcycles all sold as soon as the petrol rationing started."

"These are hard times," her grandfather said. "I worried constantly about Matthew in the last war and now it's Peter serving in the navy. Does your husband have any thought of joining up?"

"I don't know," Sybil replied. "He did at first but now…" She shrugged. "He really is Irish, even though sometimes it's easy to forget. Uncle Kieran went through the roof when Brody joined up. He's working in a motor pool somewhere near Kent. Declan will probably follow suit in another six months. Honor is already working at the garage on weekends and after school."

"Lady mechanics, what next?" Robert said shaking his head.

"The Royal Princess Elizabeth drives an ambulance," Sybil reminded him. "Mama has all of my sisters knitting up a storm and Ronan will work on the farm this summer."

They found the teashop and chatted about happenings on the estate and the plans for the Abbey to once again be converted to a convalescent home.

"Things have changed so much," Robert said thoughtfully. "When you were a little girl, I always thought you would marry Peter one day."

"That was just play," Sybil replied. "The day we visited Liam's parents' graves I knew he was really Liam Flynn, son of a doctor and a violinist from Cookstown, Ireland. He lived with us, called my parents Mama and Da, used our last name and he was kind and patient with the younger children but he was my brother in name only. He remembers his parents and his Gran before she died and where he went to school. Aideen and Branna were just babies. They don't even think of themselves as adopted."

"You are like my daughter, your mother in many ways," Robert replied. "She always saw what the rest of us didn't as well."

-0-

"There was a representative from the War Office by the shop today," Quinlan told Alice and Sybil when he and Liam returned from work one afternoon in late June 1940. They were assembled in Alice and Quinlan's bedroom with the door shut. "They want us to move our set up near Coventry to a secure facility."

"What? You can't," Alice replied in shock. "We can't leave and the baby is only three months."

"I'm not happy with the situation either," Liam replied. "Since Dunkirk they think we need better security and we can't get that here."

"What are you two working on that it needs security? Improving motorcycles isn't all that important," Sybil inquired.

"No, but designing and redesigning components that are more reliable on larger vehicles is," her husband replied. "I've said too much as it is."

"I hate this," Quinlan said. "I have the money now from James Brady's estate. We should pack up lock, stock and barrel and move to the Irish Free State. I tried to convince Da last year, but he said it would be boring with nothing to do."

"Quinlan, we have responsibilities here. Our family is here and both Alice and I are English," Sybil replied.

"And it's safer there," Quinlan stated.

"When do they want you to go to Coventry?" Alice asked.

"Next week. As soon as we finish the piece we're working on," Liam said. "I don't like it and I wish we could all go to the Free State but I don't think it's possible, not with sixteen children to care for. Seventeen if you count baby Allison."

"Eighteen," Sybil said. "I was going to tell you later darling. We have one on the way."

"Sybil that's wonderful," Liam said taking a seat beside her on the side of the bed and pulling her close.

"It is good news. Congratulations," Quinlan said. "But we need to decide what to do."

"Unfortunately, I think we're stuck with moving our work," Liam replied with one arm still around Sybil. "The girls stay here. Our family will look out for them and there is sufficient food. We'll get home to visit when we can."

"I don't like it either, but I think Liam is right," Alice replied. "I don't know if I could leave Mama and Papa when they are so worried about Peter all of the time."

Quinlan sighed and rubbed a hand over his face. He was tired from the long hours and stress of one contract after another without a break in between and the war had been on for less than a year.

"I think we need to negotiate with them before we make the move," Quinlan said finally. "Guaranteed time off every six weeks even if it's just four or five days so we can get back home. I'm exhausted already and we haven't made the move yet."

"We'll sit down and talk it through in the morning, then I'll have a meeting with the representative from the War Office," Liam said.

"I want a few days off after this one. Just to unwind," Quinlan said. "We need to get everything in writing,"

"I always do," Liam replied.

-0-

"My baby is having a baby," Tom said slightly in shock then going to hug his daughter tight. "Promise me you'll go to the hospital for the delivery."

"Da, we live three doors away from the hospital," Sybil said in exasperation.

"Promise me," he repeated. "And you'll go for a check up every month."

"Tom, don't be such a mother hen," Lillian chided. "Congratulations both of you."

"You still haven't promised," Tom coaxed.

"Alright, I promise," Sybil replied with a smile finally giving in.

"I'm probably not going to be here. You'll have to hold her to her promise for me," Liam said.

Tom froze then looked from Liam to Sybil in concern.

"You haven't joined up have you, son?" Tom asked in a worried voice.

"No, nothing like that. The war office wants us to move our shop to a secure facility a little further south. I won't be able to live at home," Liam replied.

"Thank God," Tom said letting out the breath he had been holding.

"Quinlan wants us all to move to the Free State, Da, but none of us see how we could do it right now," Sybil said.

"I'd like to go myself," her father said tiredly. "When this mess is over, I'm going to apply for a pardon. I want to go home. We want to go home," he said reaching to take Lillian's hand. "At least Ronan has another three years before he can be conscripted. Maybe it will be over by then."

"I'm not holding my breath," Liam said. "The only decent thing that has come out of it all is I'll have made enough we can move where ever we want when this is done."

"There is no way I can leave the estate farm," Tom said. "The land use representatives the government send around know nothing about grazing and planting. They think the land can just keep turning out produce and supporting stock with nothing put back in, not to mention the issues with staffing."

"I thought the Women's Land Army was supplying the labor," Sybil said.

"They do supply a great deal, but there is always more to do and there still aren't enough workers for the harvest and the cannery this fall. We're going to be hard pressed to get everything done," Tom replied. "But never mind all that. We have something to celebrate. This calls for a family party."

Sybil and Liam walked back to Crawley House that evening with a basket full of socks the twins had knit and a bag of outgrown clothes.

"Have you noticed we can't go anywhere without someone handing over something that has been outgrown," Sybil asked.

"Seventeen children in the house and you're complaining?" Liam replied with a chuckle.

"You do realize we will probably never have to buy a single article of baby clothes," Sybil said with a twinkle in her eye.

"Maybe we'll just have to have seventeen of our own," Liam teased.

"Oh no," Sybil replied laughing. "I would be much happier with ten."

"Ten!" Liam replied in shock.

"A nice round number," Sybil said still teasing. "Just think how much fun it will be making them."

"Care for a little practice?" Liam asked with a smile.

"I thought you'd never ask," Sybil replied with a grin.

* * *

Chapter 45 – Chaos

"Mama, Da, what are you doing here at this hour?" Sybil asked opening the front door of Crawley House to her parents at three in the morning on November 16, 1940. The serious look on her parents face told her something was wrong. The group of adults standing on the doorstep included the Reverend and Mrs. Fisher, Uncle Kieran and Aunt Lorna.

"Coventry has been bombed," Tom told her quietly as they all entered the house and closed the door behind them. "The city is on fire."

"It's been bombed before. Liam and Quinlan stay at a rooming house in another village. It's the middle of the night. They should be there," Sybil said attempting to rationalize what she had just heard.

"It hasn't been bombed like this. It's not one or two areas. The entire city is ablaze. I called the rooming house. It took a number of tries to get through. They're not there. The landlady said they were working late," Tom replied. He reached out to steady Sybil and guide her to a chair as her knees buckled.

"We don't know anything one way or the other yet," Lillian added. "The Reverend and Mrs. Fisher are here to stay with the children. We thought you and Alice should come stay with us while we wait for word. Aunt Edith and Uncle John will be over once it's light.

Sybil nodded dumbly. Her Aunt Lorna and Uncle Kieran were already on the way up the stairs to get the baby ready to go and wake Alice.

"They could be in a shelter or helping the fire brigade," Reverend Fisher commented in an attempt to be helpful. "All we can do is offer prayer for their safety and all the souls in the city."

Sybil nodded again.

"I'll need a change of clothes," she said starting to rise.

"I'll pack a bag for you," Lillian said heading for the stairs.

"Maria has a cough. There's cough syrup in the high cabinet over the sink," Sybil told Mrs. Fisher. "Hans needs to finish his homework before school and watch Dieter. He's taken a notion to eat tooth paste."

"We'll take care of it," Mrs. Fisher said.

"It's wash day," Sybil continued. "Gregor is forever leaving his socks tangled up in his shirts. The older children will bring the laundry in off the line and fold it when they get home from school."

"Yes, Sybil, we'll take care of it. Don't worry about a thing here," Mrs. Fischer comforted.

Kieran came back downstairs carrying the still sleeping baby, Alice appeared looking pale and already dressed. A few minutes later Lillian and Lorna reappeared with Sybil and Alice's overnight bags.

Sybil got up and put on the coat and hat her father was holding for her. They were a quiet group that made their way to Willowbrook House. Once they were inside, Sybil and Alice sat together on the sofa in the sitting room, clinging to each other's hands.

"They're smart and resourceful," Alice said trying to comfort the pair of them. "They'll be alright."

"I wish we had gone to the Free State when Quinlan wanted to," Sybil replied.

"If wishes were horses," Kieran said quietly. "You can't wish away what is."

"Uncle Kieran, you're always so practical," Sybil replied. "Even now."

"I'm worried too," he replied.

"Sybil you need to lay down," Lillian said when she brought in some tea. "It's not good for the baby for you to be up."

"I can't go to bed, Mama," Sybil replied. "Not until I know something." She was now five months along and getting round.

"I'll get a blanket. You can lay on the sofa," her father said.

Edith and John arrived along with Mary once dawn had broken. The blackout restrictions made traveling at night more dangerous than ever. Trips at night were restricted to emergencies only.

Finally close to noon, there was a knock on the door. Tom returned with a telegram in his hand. His face was pale and his jaw set as he handed the cable to his brother.

"It's from Quinlan," Kieran said sagging in relief. "He's fine. Liam has been taken to hospital in Birmingham. Quinlan is making his way there now."

"No," Sybil wailed.

"We don't know what's wrong," Alice said going to put her arm around Sybil.

"I'll start making inquiries," Edith said. Tom and Lillian could only nod. Lorna had her arms around Kieran with her head on his shoulder.

"I'll help Edith," Mary added.

Lillian showed them out, then came back to the group.

"Why don't you go home and get some rest," she said to Kieran and Lorna. "We'll let you know as soon as we hear anything."

Sybil was wrapped in her father's arms.

"I want him home," Sybil mumbled against her father.

"We all do. Quinlan will let us know more when he can. Don't ever underestimate your Aunts. They're both made of the same stuff as your great grandmother. If there is any information they'll find it and Uncle John is no slouch either."

"Sybil you have to try to sleep," her mother told her. "Go up to your old room. The bed is made up."

"I'm going home to check on things," Alice said. "I'll come back in a bit."

Sybil worried and fretted but finally fell into a restless sleep. About dinnertime, a call came from Edith.

"Liam has had surgery. He's at the General Hospital in Birmingham," she said. "They wouldn't tell me anything about his condition."

"At least we know he's alive," Tom replied.

"It took so long to get information because they bombed the utilities as well. Everything is out in the area," Edith said. "It's not dark yet. Mama, Mary and I will be over in a bit to make some plans."

"Of course," Tom said. "We'll see you in a few minutes."

Sybil was hovering in the doorway for any news of her husband.

"He's out of surgery. They couldn't find out any more information," he said. "Grandmama, Aunt Edith and Aunt Mary are on the way over."

Sybil's hands were trembling as she took a seat.

"I know I shouldn't jump to conclusions," she said. "I deal with this day in and day out, but when it's your own husband it's different."

"I know, dear," Lillian said sliding an arm around her as she took a seat next to Sybil on the sofa.

Alice came into the sitting room to wait for the others to arrive.

"I wish Quinlan would call," she said.

"The utilities are in a mess in the area," Tom said. "I have no idea how your Mama found out as much as she did."

Cora arrived looking as regal and serene as ever despite being in her early seventies. Mary and Edith were with her. Kieran and Lorna arrived soon after. Lord Grantham had stayed at the Abbey to keep an eye on things with the convalescents and the military staff at the house.

"We need to decide who is going," Cora stated once everyone was seated. "We need to bring Liam home."

"I'm going," Sybil said immediately.

"No," her grandmother replied. "You need to protect your child. The stress could be harming the baby already."

Sybil backed down at her grandmother's words. She already had started spotting from the stress of the day. She would have to rest and wait for news as best she could.

"You're right, Grandmama," she complied.

"I'll go instead," Alice said.

"You can't Alice," Sybil replied. "We are taking five evacuee children tomorrow from London. Mama and Mr. Fisher are doing the placements."

"Oh, I had forgotten," Alice said.

"You're needed at the home and at the hospital, Alice. Sybil needs to rest. You'll both have to stay in Downton," Lillian said.

"I have already made sure there is space for Liam at the village hospital and at the Abbey," Cora said.

"How did you manage that Grandmamma? The convalescent home is military only," Sybil asked.

"We've been down this road before in the last war," Mary said.

"Mary and I will go to Birmingham," Edith stated.

"I'm going with you," Tom said stubbornly. "He's my son."

"I was hoping you would say that," Edith replied. "Once we find Quinlan between the four of us we should be able to get Liam on a train and headed home once we know if he can be moved."

"We'll be staying with Lady Astrid," Mary said. "She's an old friend who lives not far from Birmingham."

Tom nodded his agreement.

"We'll leave on the six tomorrow morning," Edith said. "Now we need to get home before it's dark and get packed."

"We're going to need help tomorrow," Lillian said to the group. "We have forty children arriving tomorrow afternoon for placement in the village. Sybil is in no condition to work, Alice is needed at the hospital, and the Fishers are at Crawley House."

"I can help out," Lorna volunteered.

"Thank you," Lillian replied. "I'll keep Ronan, Aideen and Branna home from school tomorrow. They are old enough to help too. Ronan can take your place at the cheese shop, Lorna."

"Anya and Fiala can come home from school at lunch. It won't hurt them to miss a half day," Alice said. "And they know the routine for new arrivals."

"It's settled then," Tom said. "Tomorrow I will go bring our son home."

The next day Tom, Edith and Mary quickly found out getting to Birmingham after a major air raid so close by would be no easy matter. They finally took a train south to London, another west and finally a train north. It was almost dark when they arrived at Lady Astrid's worn out from the trip and the myriad of delays. The smell of smoke hung in the air even though they were a good distance from Coventry.

"There is no phone service," Lady Astrid told them. "I only received the telegram you were coming late this afternoon."

"I'm sorry for the intrusion," Mary said. "I do hope we're not imposing."

"We all have to help out in any way we can," Lady Astrid replied. "You're not intruding at all. I'll have my man take you to the hospital as soon as it is light. There is no point in going now. With all the road closures and checkpoints you wouldn't make it before midnight. At that they won't let you in to see the young man your looking for before morning, I'm sure."

"Thank you for your help, Lady Astrid," Tom said.

"Weren't you the one Edith was rolling around in the mud with at a shoot years ago?" Lady Astrid asked Tom.

"We weren't exactly rolling," Edith said with the color coming to her cheeks after all these years.

"My Alfred still gets a good chuckle out of it from time to time," Lady Astrid replied. "I'll just show you where the bomb shelter is before you go to your rooms."

-0-

"Oi, Hans is a German name," Walter a nine year old boy who had just arrived at Crawley House from London said when he was being introduced to the other children. "I'm not supposed to speak to Germans."

"I'm from Austria, not Germany," Hans informed him.

"Isn't that the same thing?" Walter questioned.

"No. How come are you here? Did the soldiers take your parents away too?" Hans asked.

"Na. My Dad is in the army. Mum works at a warehouse near the docks. She thinks we're going to get a bomb dropped on our flat. She made me and my brother come here," Walter replied looking around. "This is a pretty nice place."

"Do you want to sleep in my room?" Hans asked. "There are two empty beds, one on top of the other."

"Sure," Walter replied taking his younger brother Tim by the hand.

"May Walter and Tim stay in my room Mrs. Fisher?" Hans asked once he remembered the children were supposed to sleep where they were assigned.

"It's very good of you to offer Hans," Mrs. Fisher replied. "I'm sure it will be fine."

She could hear the boys' conversation as they moved off to the boys' quarters.

"Are you a Jew?" Walter asked.

"Lutheran. We have a cow in the stable in the yard. Do you want to see? It's my turn to milk tonight."

"Whao," Walter replied. "I've never seen a cow before."

"Milking is easy. I will show you. Gregor showed me how."

"Is he German?"

"No, he's a Czech."

"Ok," Walter replied.

"I want to see the cow, too," Tim finally chirped up when he could get a word in between the two older boys.

Mrs. Fisher went to the kitchen to see what the girls were up to just before dinnertime. Fiala was busy stirring a pot on the stove. The odor coming from it wasn't one Mrs. Fisher was familiar with.

"What are you making Fiala?" she asked cautiously.

"Borsht," Fiala replied.

"What is in it?" Mrs. Fisher asked looking in the pot to see a purple red broth.

"Beets, some onion, carrot, parsnip, it's good. When it's done I will add some cream," Fiala said. "My Babi showed me how to make this back home.

"It's good," Anya said. "Fiala makes good borsht. I made nachynka to go with it."

"What does that translate to?" Mrs. Fisher inquired with a wrinkled brow.

"I don't know, but is good," Anya replied.

"What is it made of?"

"Cornmeal, eggs, milk, a little onion, you can taste at dinner," Anya replied. "You will like it."

"I'll leave you two to it while I see to the others," Mrs. Fisher said ruefully but trying to hide her concern. "You seem to have everything under control."

"I don't know how they are going to blend English children in with the ones from Eastern Europe," Mrs. Fisher told her husband worriedly. "The girls are busy cooking a meal I've never even heard of before."

"From the look of the ones that arrived today, I'd say they are hungry enough they won't fuss," her husband replied. They could see a group setting the table in the dinning room. The two new girls were with the others learning where everything was kept.

"You just look on the chart in the kitchen every morning," one of the girls was telling them. "Then you know what your chores are for the day."

"I always had to wash dishes at home," one English girl said.

"We take turns. Today I have to set and clear the table for breakfast and dinner. Tomorrow I wash dishes," the first girl informed her.

"Is there much to eat here?" the other English girl asked.

"There is enough. We had a garden and we went to pick fruit last summer. Sometimes we went to the fields and gathered vegetables or berries," one of the girls said. "And there are sheep around here everywhere."

"Anya and Fiala are big. Sometimes they cook. They make food from back home. Other times we eat the English stuff. It all tastes good," one of the girls said. "I am not hungry at night. There we are done. Alice will come then it will be time to eat."

"The ones from the continent are all from middle class homes. This batch obviously aren't," Mrs. Fisher said. "I hope it all works out."

"There isn't much choice at the moment," Mr. Fisher said. "It's going to have to work out.

* * *

Chapter 46 – Taking a Stand

"The new children are going to be a handful," Alice told Sybil when she stopped by to see her the next day. "The boys have no manners what so ever. We had to remind them to wait for grace and I caught one of them trying to pilfer food."

"We've seen it before," Sybil said. "They're hungry and it's going to take them time to settle down." Sybil was lying in bed resting in the mid-afternoon. The spotting had stopped but there had still been no word from her father and the rest.

"Papa says phone service even here is intermittent since the attack. It's a wonder Uncle Tom got through to their land lady at all," Alice said. "Try not to worry. Our parents will take care of him."

"I'm coming home tomorrow," Sybil replied. "Lying here doing nothing is worse than working."

"I won't be sorry," Alice said. "The hospital is beyond busy at the moment. Anya and Fiala cooked dinner last night. You should have seen Mr. Fisher. He didn't know what to do," Alice giggled.

"Not snails again?" Sybil said smiling.

"No beet soup with some kind of corn bread. It wasn't that bad. The English children were so hungry they pretty well inhaled their meal. The Fishers just spooned it down without a word."

Sybil's smile slowly faded. "He will be alright won't he?" she asked.

"We haven't heard anything different," Alice replied. Just then Lillian came to call Alice. One of the new boys was in trouble at the village school for fighting.

"Here we go," Alice said rising to leave. "I'll see you at home tomorrow."

-0-

"I'm looking for Liam Branson," Tom said at the desk the first thing the next morning as soon as the hospital opened for visiting hours.

"Are you a relative?" the desk clerk asked.

"His father, and these are his Aunts," Tom replied.

"Third floor intensive care. Only one visitor allowed at a time."

"Thank you," Tom, replied before the three of them headed for the stairs.

The hospital was packed to overflowing. There were beds lining the halls and nurses moving from bed to bed looking worn out.

"I haven't seen anything like this since the last war," Edith commented before they reached the desk for the intensive care unit.

"Mr. Branson has lost a considerable amount of blood and will be in intensive care for at least another three days. The doctor in charge of the case will be making rounds at nine this morning after surgery," the nurse told them. "He can give you more details then."

"I want to see my son," Tom said.

"He has a visitor with him now. You will have to wait. Visits are restricted to three minutes," the nurse said pointing to some chairs.

"Quinlan, Tom called when they saw him walk out of the door of the intensive care ward. Quinlan looked like he had been run over by a truck. He had two days worth of stubble on his face and his eyes were bloodshot. His hair looked as though the only comb it had seen were his fingers hastily pushed through it and his jacket and shirt were so rumpled they looked like he had slept in them for a week instead of a few days.

"Uncle Tom, Lady Edith, Lady Mary what are you doing here?" he said wrapping his uncle in an embrace. "I don't even care how you got here. I'm just glad you're here."

He kissed both Edith and Mary on the cheek.

"How is Liam?" Mary asked.

"Not good. The doctors say he will recover but it is going to take a long time," Quinlan replied. "I couldn't send word. I only got the first telegram out because one of the men I knew was heading north and promised to send it for me. Communications in the area are sketchy at best. Transportation is worse."

"What happened?" Edith inquired.

"We were working late meeting with another team. By the time we heard the sirens it was too late. We were heading for the shelter when there was a blast. Two of us were behind a cement wall a little ahead of the others so we were protected. Liam and most of the others weren't so lucky. A piece of metal went through Liam's side. You probably remember Watkiss and Jamieson who were working with us in Yorkshire. Watkiss was killed instantly. Jamieson has a broken arm and his leg is broken in two places. Two men from the other team were killed as well. Those who could walk got the injured men to the shelter and had to wait until the bombs stopped to get them help. Even then it took a long time."

"We were hoping to be able to take Liam home," Mary said. "We have space held for him at the village hospital and the Abbey."

"He won't be going anywhere for the next couple weeks," Quinlan said. "The rail service isn't expected back for another four days even if we could move him."

"I'm going in to see my son," Tom said.

The sight that greeted him made him want to weep. Liam's face and arms were covered with bruises and scratches. There were tubes running into his arms and others running out of places from under the sheets. Liam looked thin and pale like a china doll that would break in the slightest breeze. Tom stood holding his hand until the nurse told him he had to leave.

"My car is at the rooming house, but it won't do us any good," Quinlan was telling the women when Tom went back out. "The petrol tanks all caught fire during the raid. There isn't a drop to be had anywhere in or around Coventry."

"How did you get here?" Tom asked.

"I've been hitch hiking between here and work. I've been to a meeting with the company we were contracting with and government reps but there is nothing left of the facility we were working at. Everything is gone. The only thing left from the last three months of work is what I'm carrying in my head."

"We're staying at Lady Astrid's," Mary said. "Her car will be here for us at two. We can retrieve your and Liam's things then."

"We've got an hour before the doctor has rounds," Tom said. "Let's find a cup of tea or something that resembles one until then."

The doctor confirmed what they already knew. Liam would be another three days in intensive care and then at least another ten days before he could be moved. Even then it would have to be by ambulance to and from the train.

"He will make a full recovery won't he, Dr.?" Tom asked.

"Yes, but he has lost part of his liver. It will be at least a year, before he is up and around and functioning normally. Even then he will have to be careful he has no sudden jars or hits to his midsection. If your son had any thoughts towards military service that possibility is now over."

"We'll take him home, to the hospital at Downton as soon as he is able to be moved safely," Edith said.

"Very well, Lady Edith. I can't deny we need every bed. Please leave your contact information with the nurse at the desk. Full telephone service should be restored in the next few days."

They thanked the doctor then each took a quick turn to see Liam before they went outside to find a place where they could sit and make some plans and try to find a way to get word home.

Two days later the sirens over Coventry and Birmingham began to wail again. They spent the night huddled in the bomb shelter in Lady Astrid's back garden waiting for the worst. In the morning they found the bombs had dropped on Coventry again and left Birmingham relatively unscathed.

"That's it," Tom said. "Quinlan take your car and drive home with Lady Edith and Lady Mary."

"Tom you're going to need help," Mary protested.

"It will be another week and a half at least before Liam can be moved," Tom said. We don't know if our messages have got through. Go home. By the time Liam needs to be moved things should be at least a little better. I'll send word if I need you to come. We're straining Lady Astrid's supplies thin the longer we stay."

The women reluctantly agreed and headed off with Quinlan later that morning. When Quinlan walked in the door of Crawley House that afternoon, Alice ran to him and held him tight. It was only minutes later there was a sea of children who had been with them over the last winter surrounding him and hugging him as well.

"It's nice to know I was missed," Quinlan said to the smiling faces looking up at him.

"Quinlan!" Sybil said rushing forward to hug him as well. "He's going to be alright isn't he?" she asked.

"Liam is going to be fine. It will take quite a while but the doctors say he will make a full recovery," Quinlan replied. "Your Da is with him. He'll be bringing him home in another ten days or so."

"Oh, Thank God," Sybil said with tears running down her cheeks.

"Didn't you get any of our cables?" Quinlan asked.

"We got two," Alice said.

"I wanted to hear it for myself," Sybil said straightening up and wiping her eyes.

"Hello, new faces," Quinlan said when he saw the new children.

"How come you're not a soldier?" Walter asked. He was the oldest of the three English boys and always full of questions.

"Because I'm not English for starters and I design the vehicles the soldiers need to do their jobs," Quinlan replied. "At least I did." He said in an aside to Alice and Sybil.

"I'm so glad your back," Alice said to Quinlan later. "The three new boys need a firm hand."

"Trouble makers?" he asked.

"No, they just haven't been taught manners or had any attention. They need a man around," Alice said. "The oldest one punched another boy in the nose when he called Hans a kraut his first day at school."

"Sounds like my kind of boy," Quinlan said with a smile.

"Ugh, men," Alice said as she put an arm around him and lead him to see their sleeping daughter.

-0-

It was just after the first of December when Tom sent word they would be coming home. Sybil, Lillian and all of Sybil's younger siblings were standing on the train platform waiting. An ambulance was standing by to take Liam directly to the hospital. When Tom stepped off the train, Lillian couldn't help but notice the lines around his eyes and mouth were a little deeper than they had been two weeks ago and his honey colored hair was a little lighter with a few more grey streaks.

Sybil couldn't help her swift intake of breath at the sight of her husband. He was thinner than when she had last seen him. The bruises on his face had faded to green and he was covered in partially healed scratches and scrapes. In the next instant, she didn't care. Liam was home and come what may they wouldn't be parted again.

"He's sedated," her father said as he hugged her.

Sybil nodded too overcome with emotion to speak.

"It's going to be a long road to recovery," he said. "But he will recover."

"I know Da," she said. "Thank you for bringing him back to me."

On Christmas Day a stream of twenty-one children plus a man and woman carrying a baby arrived at the front door of Downton Abbey. As the children filed into the main hall some had their mouths open as they stared at the carved ceilings, others looked around them at the uniformed soldiers sitting in chairs and the ones lying on cots in their pajamas. Lillian and Tom were there to greet the children along with Lord and Lady Grantham, Lady Mary and her children and Lady Edith who was now the Countess Westerfield and her husband John Harris the Earl of Westerfield. Sybil came downstairs to greet the group. The nurses and military staff came forward to protest, then thought better of it when they realized the group was being welcomed by Lord Grantham himself.

"I've opened the door so he will be able to hear you," Sybil said. "Later you can each go up if you are very quiet and to say hello."

As the children sang the people present in the house came to listen. These were not just a group of school children as they had expected but a group, which had practiced regularly under the guidance of an expert musician. As the last note died away there was a round of applause that rang through the halls of the Abbey that hadn't been heard since Lillian had played for the hospital benefit many years before. Each of the children received a small gift from under the Christmas tree and then went up single file to see Liam. The children who didn't know him hung back.

"No time like the present to meet the boy who punched a few in the nose to defend me when I was your age," Quinlan told the boys.

"Did he really do that?" Tim asked.

"He did," Quinlan said. "But now we're big and it's my turn."

Once the last of the children had filed through Liam's room Quinlan took a seat beside his bed.

"It's time you were up and playing that fiddle of yours," Quinlan told him.

"Soon," Liam replied. "How's the company."

"Closed," Quinlan said. "I completed the drawings we were working on and submitted them. They're talking about rebuilding but I'm not going back to Coventry."

"Running off to the Irish Free State?" Liam asked with a weak laugh.

"No, I'm not," Quinlan replied seriously. "You know when we were young and you used to take care of me?"

"You took care of yourself," Liam replied.

"Half your share of the food in the workhouse was not taking care of myself when the bullies had taken mine," Quinlan replied. "It's time for me to take care of you. When this war is done we're moving the family home. Both our Da's, our wives, children all of them, I have the money and I won't take no for an answer."

"So what are you planning to do between now and then?" Liam questioned. He knew the look on Quinlan's face. It meant he had reached a decision.

"I'm joining the Intelligence Division of the War Office," Quinlan said seriously. "I've already made the arrangements. I haven't told Alice yet, but I can't sit by anymore in the background. I'll be leaving in January."

"You can't be an operative. The accent is a dead give away," Liam replied weakly.

"No but I can design and build the equipment the field operatives need," Quinlan said. "I've never told anyone else this but I dream in numbers and sometimes musical notes. If I can figure out improvements on tanks and motorcycles think how easy it will be to build something small."

"Just be careful and stay out of harms way," Liam replied. "We still haven't opened that motorcycle shop we always talked about."

"I plan to be around long enough to teach our children how to drive a bike," Quinlan said. "I can't leave it to Peter. He's a terrible driver and you're almost as bad."

"If I could get up, I'd sock you for that," Liam said with a slight chuckle.

"Just get better and prove me wrong," Quinlan said.

* * *

Epilogue

"They finally passed the bill three years ago making the age to leave school fifteen mandatory," Sybil said to Quinlan as they closed the door of Crawley House and locked it after the last child had left in the spring of 1947.

"It's a good thing. No one can do to another child what was done to me at least not legally," he said.

"All of those children and not one of their parents survived," Sybil said with a sigh. "It's unbelievable."

"It took Alice a bit to forgive me for joining the War Office but I'm glad I did it. It was the right thing to do."

"She forgave you quick enough. She had two more children to prove it after you changed jobs," Sybil said. "Is Uncle Kieran ready to go?" Sybil asked as they walked towards Willowbrook House.

"Grumbling about how bored he's going to be in Ireland and fussing that Brody won't run the garage properly with a bad arm from his war injuries," Quinlan said laughing. "Da's long since past the age for retirement. He needs to take it easy."

Liam and Tom came out to meet them in the garden when they neared the house.

"Hello, love," Sybil said sliding her arms around her husband. "Where are the children?"

"Robert and Cora are busy pestering their Aunt Lilly with questions about the trip to Ireland," Liam replied laughing. "And baby Edith is trapped in her playpen."

"How about you Da? Are you ready to go?" Sybil asked.

"Yes. Peter has taken over as Estate Agent. He knows the job as well as I do. The estate will be staying in family hands for the foreseeable future."

"Since he married Charlotte who is also a Crawley, I should think so," Sybil replied with a chuckle.

"You're grandfather was practically spinning with happiness before he passed on," Tom replied. "Mary and Matthew's daughter married to the next Earl of Westerfield. Nothing could have made him happier."

They spotted Declan in the distance walking hand in hand with Anya. Gregor was with them as well. Anya waved as they approached.

"Are you looking forward to the trip?" Sybil asked when they arrived.

"Yes, a new home with my husband," Anya said squeezing Declan's arm. "We will start over and not look back."

"What about you Gregor?" Liam asked.

"Declan makes the cheese and I will take care of the cows. There is nothing in Czechoslovakia for me now. It's all good," Gregor replied with a shrug.

They hadn't been untouched by the war, but they had fared better than many other families had. Freddie had been shot in the leg and walked with a permanent limp. Brody had a bad arm and everyone else had memories both good and bad from the war years.

It was time to leave Downton and the Abbey and move on. For some of the family they were going home. For others it was a new start in a new land. Sybil watched the Abbey fade away into the distance as they drove past. She had spent her childhood there and most of her life in the place her mother had been raised and where she had followed in her footsteps as a nurse. She had seen enough of hospitals throughout the war. Wherever she went there would always be children who needed help. She was living her dream was as it had been for the last ten years, to live with her husband, raise their family and find those who needed her.

_the end of part III_


	27. Letters from Home Part I

**This is very loosely fanfiction as I am using JF's setting and one or two of his original characters so I can't move this story to a straight fiction sight. This one is rated M as it does have sexual content later on.**

Letters from Home - Part I

Chapter 1 – The Man of Cheese

It was late in the afternoon on a mid-July afternoon when fifteen year old Anya carried a basket out to check the laundry hanging on the lines in the back garden of Downton Foundling Home where she lived with her brother and fourteen other children who had been evacuated from Eastern Europe shortly before the outbreak of World War II. She was the eldest of the children living at the home at the moment and often found herself doing a large portion of the household chores. Everyone had chores to do and did their part to make the house run smooth, but there was always something to do. It was often easier to do it herself than to get a group together to do the work. Anya grabbed the shirts and socks hanging on the line in her hands and squeezed them to test for dryness. She decided the laundry could stay out to dry a little longer then turned and placed the basket by the house and went in to get a large bowl.

"Where are you off to?" Mrs. Fisher asked Anya. Mrs. Fisher was the local parson's wife and came to the home four or five days a week to help out. Today she was over to help with laundry and had a group of five children helping her clean the washroom and empty the water now the weekly task was completed.

"I was going to pick some greens along the road to add to tonight's salad," Anya replied. "The laundry isn't quite dry yet."

"I'll come with you," Fiala said drying her hands and pushing her feet into her shoes by the back door. Fiala was the closest in age to Anya being not quite a year younger. They were roommates and found themselves working together to cook meals at least once a week or mind the younger children. The girls headed out the back garden and along the lane that ran behind the row of large homes along the one side of the village. They could see Anya's brother Gregor with another boy sitting by the side of the lane. They were holding the milk cow that supplied the house on a lead and allowing her to graze in the long grass that bordered the road.

The girls turned in the opposite direction and soon found the dandelion greens and other weeds they would use to add to the lettuce from the home garden to make a salad for their dinner.

"Alice's brother-in-law is coming tonight to show us how to make different kinds of cheese," Fiala commented. "It would be nice to have a few different kinds once in a while."

"It will be a good thing to know," Anya replied frowning slightly.

"Do you know anything about him?" Fiala asked. She had arrived in England last fall almost a full year after Anya.

"Not much," Anya replied. "I have only seen him at a distance the few times we went to the church in Ripon or when I walk by the cheese shop where he works." She didn't add the older girls in her class at school had been comparing notes on the boys in town and more than one of them had kissed Declan Branson. Anya didn't care for the English girls at school very much. They either ignored or taunted the evacuee children from the home and constantly made disparaging comments. Fiala was in the next class down, which had left Anya on her own in the highest class that was made up of children completing the last two years of school. Anya wasn't included in the other girls chatter in her class but she did hear their gossip and their constant discussions of one boy or another around the village.

Anya sighed while she was working. Boys and beaus were the last thing she needed in her life at the moment. Her brother was two years younger than her and she had no idea what they were going to do once she turned eighteen and could assume custody of her brother. They had lived on a farm of considerable size back in Czechoslovakia. There had been six hired men and Anya had helped her mother with the household chores when she was not going to school. They had no idea what had happened to the farm or their father's holdings once they had been sent to the orphanage. Anya suspected everything had been taken exactly the same way as their parents and their country had been taken.

Anya thought over the time when her parents disappeared. Her father and mother had been talking about something happening in their area but there hadn't been a vote. Many of the people around were riled up but Anya hadn't been paying attention. There had been planning at school for a Christmas concert and she had been among a group of girls that had been selected to practice folk dances for the concert. Her mind had been occupied with dance steps and costumes and pretty ribbons. Papa had been a local landowner and man of some importance in their community. She and Gregor had arrived home from school one afternoon to find the local constable at their home with a group of uniformed men. He had instructed them to pack a bag each and driven them to the next town where he had left them at an orphanage. He had told them to forget their life with their parents and make their own way before he left. It hadn't been long and they were transferred to a different orphanage and then sent to meet a woman with a large group of children who were being sent to England. Anya had held on tight to Gregor's hand and refused to let go of him for a second until they reached the home where they now lived. Here Alice and Sybil and Sybil's mother, Lillian had promised them they would stay together and have a home until they reached eighteen or until a relative outside of Czechoslovakia could be found. There weren't any relatives outside Czechoslovakia that Anya knew of and she was pretty sure her parents were dead. It was up to her now to take care of them. Today they were warm and safe with enough to eat at the Downton Foundling Home and that would have to do.

"Honor, their sister comes over sometimes to help with the little ones but I've never met Quinlan's brothers," Anya said after a bit. "I think one of them went in the army."

"Honor doesn't go to our school does she?" Fiala questioned.

"No, she went to a private school in Ripon. She will be done now. She told me once the children at the village school were mean to Quinlan when he went there so her parents wouldn't let them go."

"I wonder what this one will be like," Fiala said.

"Probably like all boys. They all have smelly socks that need to be mended and a shirt that needs to be ironed." Anya said with a smile. "Come on we have enough greens to mix with the lettuce. You won't have long to wait. We will meet the mystery cheese maker tonight. I think I will go find some of the boys. They can take their own socks off the line and fold them."

-0-

Showing a bunch of young girls at a foundling home how to make cheese was the last thing Declan Branson wanted to be doing after work on a mild summer evening. He would be eighteen in a month and old enough to join up like his older brother Brody. Tonight he wanted to grab his fishing rod and go find a quiet place along a stream where he could catch a fish or two. If one of the local girls happened to wander by and he could steal a kiss so much the better.

Declan knew he was easy on the girl's eyes and had never had the least problem getting girls to give him kisses and let him feel them up when he had them alone. He had wavy light brown hair and blue eyes with an oval face and dimples in both cheeks when he smiled. He was just over average height and combined with his naturally straight teeth and wide dimpled smile he had no trouble getting girls to fall over him.

Yesterday his mother had insisted he go over tonight to give Sybil, Alice and the older girls at the home a lesson in cheese making. He had tried his best to get out of it until his mother had informed him they all needed to do their part to improve the lot of orphaned children. Not everyone was as lucky as he had been to find a home where they were cared for at a young age. Declan had felt properly chastised and guilty at his own lack of compassion. It was easy to forget he and his brother's and sister had been adopted all those years ago. He only had vague memories of his life before coming to live in England. He had a slight memory of being cold and hungry and holding the handle of a pail between him and Brody as they ran into the street and picked up coal where it dropped from a coal cart when it left the yard. Almost every memory from before the day he was adopted was like a collection of grey shadows of being cold, hungry or frightened and listening to a great deal of crying. Declan wasn't sure if it had been Honor crying or the pair of them. His first clear memory was of his father waking him up and giving him custard topped sticky bun to eat. It was the first time he had ever had custard and it had tasted so good he had though he must be in heaven because only angels would be lucky enough to eat something that tasted that good. Tonight whether he wanted to or not he was going to go give a lesson in cheese making.

The evening was warm and Declan didn't bother with putting his coat on over his plain white shirt. He strolled over to Crawley House with his jacket over his shoulder and his shirtsleeves rolled up. His cousin Sybil met him at the door and showed him into the kitchen.

"Everyone this is Declan. He has worked at the cheese shop in the village since he was a little boy. This is Anya, Fiala, Mary and the boys over there are Gregor and Gunter," Sybil introduced. "The boys are in charge of the cow and the milking but I thought they should know something about cheese making as well."

"Hello, everyone," Declan said flashing the group a smile. The three girls all had their hair braided in two rows and tight to their heads with the ends folded up and pinned. The blonde one Sybil had pointed to as Anya looked to be the oldest and a very pretty girl or she would be if she smiled. The other two appeared to be younger and had darker hair and fair complexions and smiled back at him. "I guess we'll get started with the milk. Do you have fresh milk or is it chilled?"

"We have fresh milk from tonight here," Gregor said. "It isn't separated. We have the milk from the morning but it is in the icebox and some of it was used today."

"We'll start with the fresh milk then," Declan said. He showed them some of the basic techniques he regularly used and some of the tools he had brought along to make the process easier.

Part way through the evening Anya went to the larder and came back with a bowl of whole strawberries that she proceeded to wash. Declan flirtatiously reached over and stole a berry from the bowl while Anya had it in her hands. She pointedly ignored him and handed the bowl to Gunter to put out in the dining room for the other children to have as an evening snack.

"Do you like to fish?" Declan asked Anya while they were waiting for the milk to come to the correct temperature on the stove. Anya was standing beside him watching what he was doing in the pot closely and making notes in a small notebook so they could reproduce the process.

"My brother does," Anya replied. "What do we use if we don't have rennet?"

"You can get rennet anytime from my Granddad. Just stop by the shop and I'll give you some," Declan replied attempting to catch her attention again. Closer up the girl was even prettier with blue eyes and blonde hair that had escaped in small curls from her braids. She had full lips, a peaches and cream complexion and the faintest hint of dimples in her cheeks. _"She would be so pretty if she just smiled,"_ Declan thought wistfully.

"If we need some I'll send Gunter," Anya said absently. "How many kinds of cheese can week make here at the house?"

"Quite a few," Declan replied looking directly at Anya. "I could come over another day and show you how to make cream cheese if you like or another type."

"That would be very helpful," Alice said sensing Anya's discomfort with Declan's flirting. Anya had moved away from the stove and taken a seat at the kitchen table.

"It takes a lot of milk to make cheese," Gregor said. "Maybe we should have another cow. We could take care of two easily. Gunter and Hans both know how to milk well."

"It's a lot of work when you're in school, but it is something to think about" Alice replied. "It isn't getting any easier to get rations and we might take a few more children later this year."

"I'll come over Sunday afternoon then," Declan volunteered. "Maybe we could go swimming or fishing after we set the cheese."

"Going swimming with a house full of children is a lot more complicated than our old swimming parties when we were young Declan," Sybil replied. She spotted the hopeful looks on Gregor and Gunter's faces. "We'll see who is available to go on Sunday and make a decision then," she added.

After Declan left, Anya brightened up considerably and left the kitchen with the other girls happily chatting about trying to make cheese as they had been shown on their own.

"Declan is going to have a come down if he thinks he'll be getting a kiss out of Anya," Sybil commented to Alice once the children had all left the room and they were on their own.

"Good," Alice replied. "Anya has too much sense to fall for his smiles and glib chit chat. My brother-in-law needs to learn a few things about treating a girl properly."

"Declan isn't that bad," Sybil defended.

"No, he's a sweetheart underneath all his flirting," Alice agreed. "I just wish he wouldn't flirt with every pretty girl he comes across. It was making Anya uncomfortable."

"She's a pretty girl. We can't protect her forever," Sybil said. "Besides maybe she'll throw mud in his face."

"That would be funny," Alice said with a faint laugh. "My poor husband still gets nervous and checks to see what I have in my hand every time we argue."

-0-

"I think Declan likes you," Fiala said once the three girls were back in their room.

"He is very nice to look at," Mary commented. She was thirteen and the youngest of the three in their room.

"He is nice to look at, but I have other things to think about," Anya replied. "I heard some of the girls in my class last year say they kissed him. I wouldn't want to be another on a list he forgets in two minutes."

"Don't you want to find a husband, Anya?" Fiala asked. "You will be sixteen soon. Back home that is the time to find a husband."

"We aren't back home," Anya replied. "I want a husband like anyone else but not until my brother is grown into a man. In another year I will be finished school and have to find a job to take care of us."

"You worry too much," Mary said. "When the war is over Mama and Papa will come and they will take care of me. Yours will too."

"I don't think my Mama and Papa will come," Anya replied. "Our family farm is no more. It is up to me to take care of Gregor and I can't do that if I am thinking about boys."

"You are so serious," Fiala contributed. "You need some fun."

"I do have fun," Anya said. "I would like to go swimming on the weekend and maybe catch a fish. It would be fun if we could catch more than the boys."

"Fish smell bad," Mary complained wrinkling her nose.

"But they taste good," Anya said laughing.

* * *

Chapter 2 – Practical Versus Pretty

Planning for a swimming party with a large group wasn't a simple matter as Sybil had predicted. It was finally decided Alice would stay home with her baby while Sybil's parents and younger sisters came along to help keep an eye on the younger children. They boys could all wear a pair of shorts for swimming but the girls would need swimming costumes and since not a one of them had one a trip with the eight girls to Ripon was in order. Friday Sybil and all of the girls loaded into the orphanage car and set off. It was an exciting trip for the girls as they seldom went to Ripon and getting clothing new from a store instead of hand me downs was a special treat.

"I don't care if my swimming costume is pretty or not," Anya declared when she had tried on one that fit. "It just needs to work."

"We care," the other girls said in a chorus.

"I will have to wear yours when you grow out of it and I want it to be pretty," Mary informed her.

Sybil had to put her hand over her mouth to hide her smile. The other girls picked two swimsuits and pushed Anya back into the change room to try them on. Anya finally remerged in a light blue two-piece swimsuit that showed off her figure well.

"I don't think it is proper to show my stomach," Anya said ruefully when she looked at herself in the mirror.

"It's a good choice as you won't grow out of it as fast," Sybil said. "It does suit you well. I think you should choose it."

"Yes, I will then," Anya said smiling once she had Sybil's approval.

Each girl had two or three swimsuits picked out to try on and they didn't leave the shop until everyone was happy with their new purchase. From the clothing shop they went to a small teashop where the older girls each had a cup of tea and the younger ones a glass of juice. There was a great deal of excitement on the return trip and planning for the games and what they would take for the outing on Sunday.

Declan arrived accompanied by his sister Honor at Crawley House just after lunch on Sunday. There was so much excitement about the swimming excursion it was a good thing the cream cheese only took a short while to prepare as it had to sit overnight after heating before it could be strained. Declan checked on the cheese from the previous lesson and instructed Sybil and the girls to coat it in bees wax once they removed it from the press, which they could do the next day. Then let it sit for another ten days before they used it.

Once Sybil's parents and family arrived everyone loaded into the three vehicles and set off for the swimming hole. Sybil went over the boundaries and the rules for the day again once they arrived to make sure everyone understood before they were let loose to jump and play in the water. Declan's eyes almost popped out of his head when he spotted Anya in her new bathing costume. It showed off her curves and full bust to perfection. He could hardly pry his eyes off her when his uncle came over to speak to him.

"Your father says you're planning on signing up when you turn eighteen," Tom said.

"I am," Declan said his attention suddenly diverted. He knew his father and uncle weren't in favor of his brother's decision to join the army a year earlier.

"I hope you've thought this through," Tom said.

"I owe this country a lot, Uncle Tom," Declan said. "Ireland didn't do anything for me. This is where I was raised and found my family. I need to do my bit."

"I can't disagree with you. There is something going on over there that needs to be stopped. This group is testament to that. It can't be right for thousands of children to have their parents in prison. It doesn't add up. I can't say I care for the British Army though. They were bastards in Ireland. I hope you find it better."

"Brody is working as a mechanic. I will probably wind up as a cook or a mechanic as well. There has to be some job I can do in the service."

"Just be careful," Tom said. "With everything," he added nodding towards Anya who was splashing water at the other girls and laughing.

Declan blushed and shuffled his feet before he ran into the water to join the others.

"I brought you something special," Declan said to Anya once he had a chance to speak to her on his own later in the afternoon.

"Why would you bring something for me?" Anya questioned. She was busy unbraiding her hair to let it dry in the sun.

Declan pulled a fresh apple out of his bag. It was a rare treat as apples wouldn't be in season for at least another month and had cost him quite a few shillings for the imported treat. He took out a knife and cut the apple in half. He held one half out to Anya expecting her to take a bite. Instead she reached out and took the half from him.

"Thank you," she said before she took a small bite then called to her brother who came jogging over from where he was playing a game with some other boys. Gregor snatched the half apple out of her hand and devoured it before he ran back to the other boys.

"Thanks," he called over his shoulder.

"He is always hungry," she said as she went back to running her fingers through her long hair to loosen any kinks. Fiala and Mary came over to sit beside her. Declan disappointedly cut the remaining half apple in two pieces and gave them to the other girls who thanked him for the treat. He was sighing on the inside. No matter what he tried Anya seemed indifferent to his advances.

"How old are you, Declan?" Mary asked.

"Seventeen. I'll be eighteen in a month," he replied.

"I'm thirteen, Fiala is fourteen and Anya will be sixteen next week," Mary informed him.

"I'll be fifteen at Christmas," Fiala supplied.

"Are you finished school, Anya?" Declan asked in an attempt to engage her in the conversation.

"No, I have one more year," Anya replied. "I lost one year when my parents were taken and we came here. Fiala and I will be in the oldest class next year. There are two years in one room. Did you bring fishing equipment? I would like to try catching a fish and I know some of the boys would too."

"I brought four rods. They're in the car," Declan replied. "There is a good place to catch fish just up the stream a little ways."

"I will tell Sybil and get the boys," Anya said rising to her feet gracefully then pulling a blouse on over her swimsuit and doing up the buttons. Declan was completely entranced and took a second or two before he registered what she was saying. He had to shake his head slightly before he went to retrieve the fishing equipment.

Declan didn't have a chance to try and get close to Anya during the fishing. Nine-year-old Hans was sitting with her and sharing her fishing rod and the pair of them were talking in whispers in case they scared the fish. The others had all caught two or three fish when suddenly Anya and Hans got a strike on their line. Anya was terribly excited when they reeled in the biggest fish of the day so far. She turned a beaming smile on Declan when she held up her prize. He heart missed a beat at the sight. She was easily the most beautiful girl he had ever seen when she forgot to be serious and was enjoying herself. He was grinning at her like a fool when he took the fish and put it in the basket.

"I knew I would beat you, Gunter," she proclaimed laughing.

"Girls can't fish," Gunter stated. "You only got a bigger fish because Hans was helping you."

"That's what you think," Anya replied laughing with a wide smile. She pushed a worm on the hook from the bowl and cast the line back in the water.

Declan was flabbergasted. He had never seen another girl bait her own hook. In his experience all the girls he had ever taken fishing had been too squeamish to even attempt it. If he was honest with himself he had to admit the girls he had previously taken fishing had one thing on their minds and it wasn't how to catch fish. Anya was completely different. She was beautiful beyond compare but the last thing on her mind seemed to be boys and kissing and experimenting with the opposite sex. The entire experience was disconcerting him a bit and he wasn't entirely sure how to react to her.

"Do you think you'll be able to finish the cheese tomorrow on your own?" Declan asked Anya as he went to sit beside her.

"Shh not so loud, you will scare the fish," she informed him turning a wide smile on him. She was still grinning over her earlier catch. "Yes, I think so. I wrote down the instructions," she said quietly. "I will try the clotted cream later in the week. We have honey to use to sweeten it."

"We might get a second cow," Hans supplied from the other side of Anya. "Sybil said we might get more children to live with us and then we will need more milk."

"Do you like cows, Hans?" Declan asked the younger boy.

Hans nodded.

"What about you, Anya? Do you like cows too?" Declan asked quietly.

"I like the milk that comes from them, and the butter and the cheese," Anya replied smiling. "I like to cook best of all. I usually cook so I have less of the other chores."

"I like to cook as well," Declan said quietly. "My brothers and sister all like cars better, but I like to make cheese and I cook at home as well."

"What do you like to make?" Anya asked.

"Pastry," Declan said. "What's your favorite?"

"Perogies but I like to eat them better than I like to make them," Anya replied with a smile. "They are too much work for such a large group. It would take all day to make enough for one meal."

"I like them too," Hans contributed.

"I don't know what that is," Declan said.

"Maybe one day I will make them for you, when I don't have to make them for twenty people," Anya replied.

"I would like that," Declan replied. "I'd like that quite a lot."

Over the next month Declan stopped by the foundling home at least once a week. There was no way he could get Anya alone as she always had at least one or two of the younger children with her. She asked him questions about working with the milk and cheese but always steered the conversation away from personal matters. Declan had asked her to go fishing two weeks after the first swimming party. He had thought he was finally getting somewhere until he arrived at to pick her up to be met by a group of six other children waiting to accompany them. Declan had sighed when he spotted them. If he wanted Anya for a sweetheart he was definitely going to have to work for it.

"What is your last name?" Declan asked Anya on his last visit before he left for training. The recruitment process had been interesting to say the least. The recruiters had lined them up at a swimming pool. Those who could swim the length of the pool were assigned to the navy. Anyone who couldn't swim was assigned to the army. Declan could swim and had experience working with food. He was informed he would be a cook in the navy and when to report for training.

"Cernosek," Anya replied. "Why?"

"I was just curious," Declan answered. He wanted to ask her to write to him but felt suddenly tongue-tied. It had never happened to him before. He had always had an easy time charming the local girls and asking them out. Here was a girl from a foreign land with a different accent and manner of doing things and he had no idea about how to go about entering into a relationship with her. He thought it didn't matter too much at this point as he was heading for the navy and whatever may come. He didn't even know if he would ever see her again. "I best be off and finish up a few things. I'm leaving in a few days," he said.

"I wish you good fortune," Anya replied. She kissed him on both cheeks in parting before she turned and went off into the house to do a chore. Declan stood rooted to the spot for a second before he said goodbye to the other children he had gotten to know then headed home to complete his packing.

-0-

For Declan basic training seemed to be over in a flash. He was sent immediately from basic to another training course for naval cooks. He had only two days leave between the courses, which was no where near enough time to make the trip to Yorkshire to visit his family. He had gone out with a group of others on the same course and gone to the bars and dance halls with them but somehow the girls hanging out at those places had lost all interest for him. No matter how much he tried to push a pair of blue eyes and blonde braids out of his mind, Anya kept creeping back in during the monotonous hours of calisthenics and drill that dominated training. During his leave he had spotted a pretty card decorated with flowers and birds, which he had bought with every intention of sending to her. No matter how many times he sat down to write her a note and send her the card he couldn't think of a thing to say. By the end of his cook's training it had become a weekly ritual to get the card out of his writing materials, sit and stare at it for ten minutes only to close his fountain pen and put the card back into his small box of writing paper and stamps to await his next attempt.

At the beginning of December 1940 he was assigned to a small ship patrolling the English Channel. Space was tight with only room enough for a small box of personal items that contained letters from his family and his writing materials plus a collection of five cards he had purchased in hopes he would one day get up the nerve to write to Anya.

"Aye, what's this? You getting letters from a Russian girl?" Declan's boss asked him while handing out mail to members of the crew seated in the mess.

"I don't know any Russian girls," Declan replied reaching for the small parcel that had arrived for him on the mail run during the second week in December. He looked at the return address on the parcel and felt his heart miss a beat. It read Anya Cernosek, Crawley House, Downton, Yorksire, UK. "She's Czech not Russian," he said blushing then stuffing the parcel on a high shelf above the worktable where he was working.

"Branson's got himself a Czech sweetheart," one of the men announced to the others from the crew that were seated in the mess having lunch while the ship heaved and rolled in the swells of the channel.

"Good thing. We were starting to think you were some kind of pansy," one of the men from the crew called followed by a round of rough laughter from the other sailors who were in the mess.

"That's it. Lunch is done," Declan called to them slamming the curtain shut on the serving area. He could feel the color in his face. Even with the curtain closed he could still hear the laughter on the other side of the curtain that separated the galley from the mess. Life at sea was boring and monotonous and the sailors would make sport of anything they came across to lighten up the hours of work and dread they lived with on a daily basis.

Once he had the lunch cleared away and was on a break before he started the next meal he slowly opened the packet. Inside he found a pair of hand knit socks, three short bread cookies and a letter along with another ten folded sheets of paper. He slowly unfolded the letter to reveal the contents.

_December 2, 1940_

_Dear Declan:_

_I hope this letter finds you in good health and safe in your new job. Our assignment in school was to send a Christmas package to member of our family who is serving in the war. I sincerely hope you are not offended that I asked Alice if I may write to you as I do not have anyone in my family to write to. Fiala is writing to your brother, Brody as she does not have anyone either. _

_Life here is about the same as before you left with the exception your brother Quinlan is now living with us again after his work was destroyed in a raid. Your cousin Liam is in hospital. His father is with him and we have been told he will be back living with us sometime after the first of the year once he is well enough to come home. He will make a full recovery but it is expected to be slow._

_I am sorry I don't have much else to send you. We had the younger children draw some pictures for you and Brody. It seems we save the sugar rations all year either to make preserves in the summer or a few bisquits for the Christmas holidays. The cheese making is going well. We now have a second milk cow. We got her once we found out there would be another five children from London staying here. Their accents are much different from yours or the people from the village and they are a bit hard to understand at times. There are three boys and two girls. The eldest of the new boys is ten and learning to help with the milking._

_All of the boys are trying to talk Quinlan into taking them fishing on Christmas Eve morning. I am afraid they will all freeze to death before they catch enough, but it would be very nice to have fish for our evening meal that day._

_I hope you have a safe Christmas._

_Sincerely,_

_Anya Cernosek_

_P.S. My teacher will read this letter before I mail it._

Declan read the letter over twice then looked through the pictures and notes from the other children. There were a few decent drawings but most of them were of him with a big block of cheese, which made him laugh or scenes of them either fishing or swimming in the summertime. He put his letter and package into his locker before he headed back to work. This time he wouldn't have a problem writing a card to Anya. He would think it over while working and write one out before he went to sleep at the end of his watch.

It was mid-February before Anya received a card from Declan dated two months previously. Wherever Declan was the mail was definitely slow getting through. She took the envelope to her room and opened it while the other girls were busy doing their assigned chores for the day. She had liked Declan a great deal last summer but had been hesitant to let on to anyone including him as he had a reputation around the village and she needed to protect herself and her brother from any hint of scandal if she were to have any chance of getting a job close by after she finished school.

She opened the envelope to find a very pretty card she could put in a frame if she could find one. Included with the postcard was a letter.

_December 21, 1940_

_Dear Anya:_

_Thank you very much for the Christmas parcel. I was very surprised and pleased to think you had thought of me as someone to write to. I enjoyed the cookies and pictures from the children at the home very much. I can only tell you I am working as a cook in the navy but not where I am or which ship I am on._

_I am glad to hear you are doing well with the cheese making. I miss having fresh cheese to eat whenever I like. The cheese here comes in a can and vibrates like a pudding with the movement of the ship. It is so awful I can't bring myself to eat it especially as I know what cheese should look and taste like when it is made properly. _

_May I ask you to look in on my Grandparents at their shop? I am a bit concerned as to how they are getting along on their own without someone there to help them fulltime. My Granddad is getting on in years but would rather die than utter a word of complaint when anything is too much for him._

_I hope to hear back from you soon._

_Yours truly,_

_Declan_

Anya slid the card back into its envelope before she went to her room and hid the card under her small stack of underwear in her drawer. She couldn't help but smile. Declan was glad to hear from her and asked if she would write again. She wished she had something she could send him but she didn't have a coin to her name to buy a pretty card or fancy envelope. She could go to the cheese shop though and visit his Grandparents as he had requested. She headed out of her room and downstairs to help with the evening meal with a smile on her face. Maybe Saturday she would have time to make a call then write back.

"I got a letter today," Anya excitedly told the other girls that evening once they were in their room and getting ready for bed. Letters for children with no families were few and far between and were an event to be celebrated and shared. Anya was digging in the drawer to get the envelope. "Declan has asked me to write back. He sent a card too."

"Oh, how exciting," Mary exclaimed.

"Brody only sent a letter when he wrote back," Fiala said. "I already wrote him again."

"It's so pretty," Mary gushed when Anya showed them the card then read them the letter.

"Will you write?" Fiala asked. "I told you he liked you last summer."

"He has only asked me to visit his Grandparents. He didn't mention anything else," Anya said.

"Still it's something," Fiala said.

"You could come and visit the Grandparents too," Anya said. "Then you will have something to tell Brody when you write next time."

"I don't know if he will write back again," Fiala said.

"It took two months for Declan's letter to come. I am sure Brody would like to hear news of his Grandparents even if he didn't write back," Anya reasoned. "We could stop by Saturday sometime for a few minutes."

"Yes, it is a good idea," Fiala agreed. "Beside it is good practice to write English letters."

"It is fun to get mail," Anya said.

"Especially when it is from a handsome boy," Mary stated before all three girls collapsed in a chorus of giggles.

* * *

Chapter Three – The Little Pig

If anyone had asked Declan if navy life was glamorous or if he was building a store of wartime memories he would have laughed in their face. So far he had found his life in the navy exhausting with long hours, rough seas, emergency drills and a shortage of fresh water for bathing. As a cook he was allowed a basin of water for washing everyday but the only time he shaved his beard was when they were in port long enough for him to spend a night at an inn where he could get cleaned up. The two times they had been in long enough for that luxury he had gotten cleaned up and slept away almost his entire twenty-four hour leave. There had been just enough time to make a quick trip to the shops to restock his supply of toothpowder and a few other personal essentials before he was back at work and the ship was preparing to leave port yet again.

It was late February when he received a return letter from Anya during an overnight provisioning in port. He penned off a reply quickly and dropped it in the mail on shore before he headed back to the ship for his early duty watch. This time she had included a small block of cheese sealed in what looked to be four layers of bees wax. It wasn't what anyone would call a romantic parcel but it made his heart soar all the same. He was receiving regular letters from his mother and grandmother but Anya's letters were special and he had read and reread her first letter until the paper was almost worn out. It made his insides twist in jealousy to think she would soon be finished school with the local lads buzzing around her.

This time Anya was surprised when she received a return letter only a few weeks after she had sent the last one. It had a postmark from an English town called Plymouth. Fiala had received a return letter from Brody at long last asking her to write to him often as letters would reach him much quicker than they would come back the other way. He had also asked her to send a picture so he would know what she looked like. Fiala had blushed and fluttered at the idea of sending a picture but she had yet to ask Sybil or Alice if she could have one taken as she had no money to get one taken herself. Declan's grandparents had shown them a picture of Brody. He was much like Declan although a bit shorter with slightly darker hair and not quite as wide a smile.

Anya had the unopened envelope inside her sweater. She was dreading opening it. She hoped Declan hadn't thought her sending him a few slices of cheese was silly. His grandparents had asked if the girls were their grandson's sweethearts. Both girls had quickly stated they were what their teacher called pen friends and told the Clarkes they had started to write to Declan and Brody as part of a school assignment and then continued to do so when the boys had written back. The Clarkes had asked the girls to stop by again with any news they had of their grandsons.

It was late in the evening before Anya had a chance to open her letter. Sybil was expecting any day and Liam had just come home from hospital. He was not up all the time yet which meant there were extra chores waiting to be done as soon as everyone returned from school and homework sessions that needed to be supervised. Anya pulled the covers over her head and clicked on a flashlight she had brought into bed so she could be the first one to read what was on the pages of her letter.

_26 February 1941_

_My Dearest Anya:_

_I hope this letter reaches you quicker than my last one. We are in port provisioning and I must write this quickly before making my way back to the ship for an early watch. I would ask that you write to me as often as you can. Letters often come in batches but everyone is like a ray of sunshine in an otherwise grey world of metal and seawater. _ _Thank you for the cheese. All the wax did a good job of preserving it and it arrived fairly well intact. It was delicious._

_I am glad you had a chance to visit my grandparents. From your letter it sounds as though they are well. Do you have any idea of what you will do when you are finished school this spring? Are you planning to stay in Downton? I very much wish I had enough time off to make a trip home. I would like to see you if I ever get a chance to make the trip. The small amount of time I have off I have spent sleeping. I'm afraid the reality of navy life is long hours with very little sleep. Almost all the crew spend their days off sleeping, writing letters or making quick trips to the shops when we touch dry land. I think we are rather a dull bunch. It is nothing like the American movies they show in the theatres. _

_I think of you often. It is not an easy thing to ask in a letter and I wish I could ask you in person. Would you consider being my girl when I return home? I understand if you think I am being forward in asking you by post but I fear it will be sometime before I am able to visit._

_Yours,_

_Declan_

Anya read the last paragraph over three times before she slid the letter under her pillow and clicked off the flashlight. Her mind was spinning and she felt as though she had been placed on a carousel at the fair that was running out of control. Part of her wanted to write back immediately and say yes, while the other part wanted to scream, _"No, I have too many responsibilities already_." She spent the better part of the next hour tossing and turning before she fell into a restless sleep.

"Anya seems distracted since she received her last letter from Declan," Sybil told Liam while she was resting two afternoons later. Their infant son, Robert wasn't sleeping through the nights yet and Sybil was up at all hours for nighttime feedings. Liam was home and up and about but still had to rest an hour every morning and again in the afternoons.

"It's probably nothing," Liam reassured her. "Besides he's not here physically so there is nothing to worry about. I'm more concerned about the missing food. Anya and Fiala have both commented there are jars of preserves missing from the pantry and we know what happened with the ginger crisps Mrs. Fisher brought over."

Mrs. Fisher had brought over a plate of twenty-four ginger crisps for their monthly birthday celebration they had on the first Sunday of every month. When the crisps were handed out there had only been eighteen, which meant three of the children hadn't received one. Sugar was heavily rationed and the birthday treat once a month was something everyone looked forward to. The problems had started when the London children had arrived and were escalating. They highly suspected Jack Higgins one of the boys who had arrived in November as a London evacuee but hadn't been able to catch him in the act. Tim had been caught a few days after he arrived with a handful of currents but after a good scolding had learned to ask if he wanted a snack after school or in the afternoons. The other three children were willing enough to do chores and help out around the home. As well their manners had improved considerably with regular reminders but Jack was another story. He was lazy and didn't want to make his bed or take part in chore time. They regularly had to check his room in the mornings to make sure he had made his bed and watch him during chore time to make sure he wasn't sneaking off and leaving others in the group to do his share of the work.

"I don't want to put a lock on the pantry and I don't think it would do much good. The girls are in and out all day long most weekends preparing things for the following week," Sybil commented.

"We might not like it, but it might come to that," Liam replied.

Anya had received the letter from Declan on Wednesday and by Friday night she had herself so worked up she couldn't sleep. Finally at three in the morning she got up and headed downstairs to make a cup of tea and start on the preparations for breakfast and the day's cooking tasks. They had planned on porridge and fresh cream for breakfast. Anya had been saving the last jar of strawberry preserves to make tarts for the birthday celebration. If she had everything done she could accompany the boys on the fishing trip they had planned for later in the day. She stopped by the nursery when she heard Sybil up with the baby.

"What are you doing up so early?" Sybil questioned when she saw Anya.

"I couldn't sleep. I was going to make tea and maybe get a start on the baking I wanted to do today," Anya replied with a shrug.

"I'm almost done here," Sybil said. "I'll come down for tea with you. Maybe we could talk about what's been bothering you this week."

"I've been thinking about when I finish school," Anya said. It was part of what she had been thinking about. "I will need to find a job."

"Is that all?"

"No, not all," Anya replied.

Sybil laid Robert back in his crib once he had been burped and was drifting off to sleep again. They two of them headed down to the kitchen. Sybil began filling the kettle with water while Anya went to the pantry to retrieve the box of tea. Sybil turned with a start when she heard Anya call from the pantry in a loud voice.

"Prase. Pig. I finally caught you."

Anya was coming out of the pantry with Jack by the ear and an almost empty jar of strawberry preserves in her hand. There was a wrapper from soda biscuits dangling from his hand that had only one or two biscuits left in it.

"I work and work to make nice things to eat and this is the thanks I get," Anya scolded give Jack a good shake by the ear.

"Ow, let go of me. That hurts," Jack squealed.

"I have a good mind to take the kindling to your behind," Anya scolded. She had been fretting over her own problems and catching the larder thief in the act was making her see red.

"Anya let go of him," Sybil said. She walked over to take Jack by the shoulder. She was mad as well but was doing her best to keep her temper. "Jack, you will go to the washroom and wash your face. Then go back to bed. There will not be anymore stealing. You are stealing from everyone who lives here and you will be punished. I will talk it over with the other adults and we will let you know your punishment in the morning.

Jack looked from Sybil to Anya cringing slightly at the angry looks on their faces. He set the almost empty wrapper on the table before he skulked off.

"Oh, little pig," Anya said in exasperation a she looked at the ruined jar of strawberry jam.

"We know who it is and now that we've caught him, he will be punished," Sybil said. "Let's have that cup of tea now."

"I see," Sybil said after Anya had explained her dilemma. "Whether you wish to have Declan for your beau is entirely up to you. Whatever you decide you should be honest. You are concerned for your brother's welfare and your reputation and those are legitimate concerns but I think you are worrying more than you need to. We will help you with a job when the time comes and you both have until you are eighteen to stay here free of charge. I sometimes don't know how we would get along here without you."

"Thank you, Sybil. I think I will go back to bed for a few hours. In the morning I will think of something else for the treat for tomorrow. It won't be jam tarts now."

"No it won't," Sybil agreed.

"I think you've already had more than your share this morning," Liam said as he reached over Jack's shoulder the next morning and removed the bowl of porridge from in front of the boy. Liam's other hand removed the cream jug from Jack's hand before he had poured any. The three adults had come into the dining room just as the bowls of porridge were being passed out. Mary had watered down the ruined jam a bit and there was a small blob on the top of each bowl of porridge rather than see it go to waste. "You may stand in the corner until everyone else is seated," Liam informed Jack.

Jack opened his mouth to argue but one look at the man's face changed his mind for him. Once everyone was seated including Sybil and Alice with Alice's daughter in her high chair, Liam called Jack over to the table.

"Jack has been caught stealing from the food stores," Liam informed the group. "You all know that is a very serious offense. Not only is stealing wrong but we have limited food supplies to go around. All of you help with getting the food we do have in one way or another and know what hard work it is to make sure we all have enough to eat." Liam paused and looked at Jack. "We have decided to put Jack in Coventry until bedtime on Sunday. That means he is not to speak and you are not to speak to him. Further Jack you will stay in today and do chores all day. Mary, Fiala and Anya you all will have the entire day free. Jack will be doing the cooking for today and tomorrow plus the dishes from each meal. As well Jack you will muck out the stable and hen house this morning. Gunter and Gregor you may take the younger boys fishing after milking if you wish."

Jack opened his mouth to protest then closed it when he caught the look on Alice's face.

"Jack if you break Coventry or refuse to do your chores you will receive a spanking and be sent to bed without dinner. I will put a lock on the pantry if I have to in order to prevent any more stealing. Do I make myself clear?"

Eight-year-old Jack looked up at Liam and nodded.

"Good, now you may go stand in the corner and think over what you have done until it is time to clear the table," Liam instructed him. The eyes from all the children seated at the table were round at the severity of the punishment being handed out but no one dared to make a comment on it.

"Who's coming fishing?" Gunter questioned to break the silence.

Everyone headed off to do their morning chores once the meal was finished. Liam put a hand on Jack's shoulder and directed him to the sink where a large pile of dishes were waiting for him as well as the soiled pot.

"You best get a move on," Liam informed him. "If you have enough energy to be up helping yourself at three in the morning it is obvious you don't have enough to do through the day to tire you out."

"Do you think we're being too hard on him?" Alice questioned at lunchtime when the boy was obviously drooping under the amount of work Liam had put on him that morning and the day was only half done.

"No, I don't," Liam replied. "This is nothing to what was put on the children in the workhouse and it is only for two days. Your husband and I both withstood much worse. He has to learn. We can't have a thief in the house."

The boy was sitting and picking at his sandwich and raw carrots on his plate at the table.

"Jack either get your lunch down or give it to someone else to eat. You have work to do as soon as the plates are cleared," Liam informed the boy. Jack immediately started eating his sandwich at the thought of going without another meal. Liam shook his head slightly. It was going to be a long two days.

Anya had been overjoyed with her entire Saturday free. It served that little "_prase"_ right. Let him cook and work all day and see how he liked it for a change. She decided to go over and visit the Clarkes then go and join the boys at their fishing spot. She had all weekend to compose her letter to Declan. She knew what she wanted to say but not quite how to say it.

* * *

Chapter Four – The War Stops for No One

It was almost four months before the mail caught up with the ship again. Declan had read and reread his old letters from home so many times the pages of each were worn soft. The patrol boat he was on wasn't as large as the destroyers that patrolled the Atlantic and there were only two cooks onboard, which equaled long days and little rest. When the Quarter Master handed him his packet of mail, he was relieved to find three letters from Anya along with two from his mother and father, one from his sister and another two from his Gran.

He read the letters from his family during breaks and was surprised when his Gran mentioned Anya was working at their shop after school four days a week. Once his watch was ended and he had rolled into his sleeping rack worn out from another day of cooking and the constant stress of alerts he opened the letter from Anya with the earliest postmark.

_March 4, 1941 _

_Dear Declan:_

_You asked many questions in your last letter which I will try to answer. I am not sure what I will do when I finish school in four months, but I think I must find a job and begin to save so I can take care of my brother and myself if need be. I am sure our parents are gone along with our life back home. I have talked to Sybil about this and she has told me we can stay here at the home until we each turn eighteen. I will not leave my brother. When I am eighteen if I must leave the area to find a job, I will take him with me. Yesterday I stopped to visit your grandparents and your grandfather asked me if I would work at the shop afterschool and on weekends. I will talk to Sybil and Alice about it in a few days and give him my answer then. Your grandfather said he did not want any of the local tarts working at his shop. I do not understand what that means. What do baked goods have to do with cheese? I will ask my teacher on Monday._

_Liam, Sybil and Alice are very busy this weekend. There is a boy here who was caught stealing food. He ate almost an entire jar of jam I was saving to make a treat for everyone. They are making him do all the cooking for the weekend and we are not allowed to speak to him for two days. I saw him crying this afternoon, but it serves the little pig right for all the things he has taken. The other boys went fishing yesterday and caught enough fish we will have it for dinner tonight._

_My answer to your other question is I would like to spend more time with you and get to know you better. I think this is what a beau is. Yes I will be your sweetheart as long as it does not make me the topic of gossip. Please understand. I cannot do anything that will make it hard for me to find a job and take care of my brother. _

_I hope this letter finds you well and safe from harm._

_Anya_

Declan smiled as he read her letter. His grandfather wasn't stupid. A girl as pretty as Anya would draw the local men to his shop in droves. Declan's stomach twisted in jealousy over all the men he imagined lining up to be waited on by Anya. She was now his girl or at least would be when he got home and she certainly was no tart. If he wanted to get anywhere with her when he got back he was going to have to clean up his act which wasn't such a bad thing. Anya was worth twenty of the girls he had chased after before.

He was surprised when he opened the next letter to find a collection of three photographs. There was one of Anya sitting in the garden at Crawley House, another of her with a group of boys who were holding up some fish they had caught and one of her with his grandparents. He was struck by how old his grandfather and grandmother looked in the picture. The letter was full of the local happenings and Anya's description of her job after school at the cheese shop. Sybil had loaned the girls her camera so they could take some pictures to send to him and Brody. They had also taken a few pictures so the English children could send them to their parents. Jack or the little pig as Anya referred to him had mended his ways and was now helping with cooking on Saturdays.

He opened the third letter to find some sprigs of lavender she had included.

_May 30, 1941_

_Dear Declan:_

_I assume you have not received my other letters yet since there has been no reply. Fiala has only received two letters from Brody so far. He mentioned the mail is very slow where he is but otherwise he is fine._

_I am still working for your grandfather after school. I will be finished school in another two weeks then I will work at the cheese shop five days a week. Sybil and Alice have asked me to stay on here at the home to help with the cooking and the other children. Your grandfather is holding my wages in an account for me so I can still live here. Your grandparents asked me to live with them but I would like to stay here so I can spend more time with Gregor. _

_Gregor and I are going to church in Ripon now with your parents and grandparents. It has been a long time since we have had the opportunity to attend our own church. Your father said he would teach me to drive this summer so I can drive your grandparents car when they want to go somewhere. Mr. Clarke almost had an accident the last time he drove and your Papa does not want him to drive anymore._

_The other day one of the younger boys Dieter was leading one of the cows when it pulled away. It had been raining and he fell in the mud. Everyone laughed when they saw him because only his eyes were not black. It took quite a while to clean him up._

_Liam is just recovering from jaundice. He is very weak. There is an outbreak in the village. So far he is the only one at the house who got it. Alice noticed right away when he got sick. They got him medicine and he has to stay away from everyone for two weeks. Before every meal everyone has to line up and wash their hands. I think it is what is stopping us all from getting sick. Alice told me Liam got sick because he is still not all the way better from when he got hurt last year._

_We have early vegetables this year. Gunter and Hans built a cold frame in the garden from some old windows. The garden is planted and some of the flowers are blooming early. _

_I hope you are able to write back soon._

_Sincerely,_

_Anya_

Despite being tired Declan got out his writing materials and was about to write a reply to Anya when the call to action stations came over the ship's communication system. He was out of his rack and dressed with his life jacket and helmet on his head in a flash. By the time the action was over and he had made it back to his rack for two hours of sleep before his next watch started all thoughts of letters home were gone from his exhausted mind. A few days later he had a few minutes in the lull between watches coming through for the evening meal. He got out paper and pen and wrote a quick note while he was sitting on a stool in the galley.

_July 15, 1941_

_My Dearest Anya:_

_I received your last three letters in the last mail delivery to the ship. I was very happy to hear you would like to spend more time getting to know me better. I don't know when I will have leave to come home but I am planning to spend it getting to know you better when I do. Thank you for the pictures. You are every bit as beautiful as I remember and I am honored you would consider being my sweetheart._

_I am glad to hear you are working for my grandparents. They need help at the shop. It would be a good thing if Granddad quit driving. I will worry less about them with you there to keep an eye on things. Has my father taught you to drive yet? He taught all of us to drive including my uncle when he was younger. Quinlan and Liam always argue about who is the better driver. The best driver of the lot is my Uncle Tom but don't tell them I said that._

_I do understand your concern about your brother. I was lucky to be adopted with my natural brother and sister when we were little. From what I understand it does not happen very often. I don't remember much from before I came to England to live and my family now is the only one I can remember. I would be lost without them._

_Dieter covered in mud would have been very funny indeed. I am sure you wanted to choke the little pig when you caught him stealing food. We keep the stores here locked to stop any pilfering. It is a huge offense in the navy to steal rations and comes with severe punishment._

_I'm sorry if my writing is a bit crooked. I burned my hand on some soup the other day when we went to action stations. It is nothing to worry about but the bandage is making writing awkward._

_Declan_

He finished writing and folded the paper. He had considered signing the note Love Declan but then thought better of it. Anya was so reserved she would most likely balk at the use of the endearment. He sighed a little before he went back to work. Getting shot at by Gerry ships and U-boats was wearing thin and he had been here less than a year. At least two or three times a week he was up on deck at action stations waiting with a stretch and first aid kit for any injuries during action with a German E-boat and they had been strafed by enemy planes more than once. So far they had been lucky not to have anything really serious happen. It had all seemed like a great adventure when he was fishing by the side of a stream back home. Now the war couldn't be done fast enough to suit him. Declan shoved the finished letter in his breast pocket before he opened the serving line to feed the next watch. _"Another day, another meal in the world of grey steal,"_ he thought as he resumed his duties.

-0-

"We're going to have to make some decisions about how many more children we can take," Alice said at a meeting around the kitchen table at Crawley House in late July. They were having a meeting of the adults with Sybil, Alice, Liam, Lillian and the Fishers in attendance. Bombing had let up in London but industrial cities like Liverpool were still being heavily hit. Walter and Tim had lost their mother in a London bombing raid and word had just arrived their father had been killed in action in North Africa. They had not been able to find a relative who was willing to assume custody of the two boys. One of the London girls had been retrieved by her Grandmother from Scotland and Jack's mother had sent for him to come home at the end of the school year. Orphanages in the area were being flooded with children whose extended families did not want the added burden of feeding and clothing them when the children's parents were lost and the steady stream of evacuees arriving from Malta and Sweden in advance of the German invasion were filling every available space yet again. Only a small number of evacuees had made it out of Yugoslavia before it fell a few months previously and most of them had been children whose parents were attempting to send their offspring out of danger.

"The Clarkes would like Anya to live with them full time," Lillian commented. "They are counting on her more and more now that she is working for them."

"She wants to stay with her brother," Sybil said. "I can't say I blame her."

"Perhaps they would take Gregor to live with them as well," Mrs. Fisher commented. "It wouldn't hurt to ask and that would open two spaces. They can both come over to visit their friends whenever they choose."

"I'll go over and speak with them and my brother-in-law after we finish here," Lillian said.

"If it can be arranged there will be room for eight more," Mr. Fisher contributed.

"I can't say I was particularly sad to see Jack go home," Liam commented. "I just couldn't bring myself to trust him after he was caught."

"We just don't know what we will get," Sybil reminded him.

"Do we have any age preferences in the next group we accept?" Lillian asked.

"I think we should take children between the age of five or six and ten," Alice replied. "Things are much easier if they are all in school through the day. Of course we would take siblings of any age."

"Alright it is settled then," Lillian said. "If we are all in agreement, I will go and talk to Anya and the Clarkes then contact the orphanage in Ripon to let them know how many we can take. Six or eight depending on the space."

Everyone nodded their agreement before the group broke up.

When Lillian arrived at the Clarke's shop she found Gregor and Gunter there lifting the heavy cans of milk to pour it into the cheese-making vat under Mr. Clarke's supervision. Anya was busy working at the front with Lorna. She went to talk to Mrs. Clarke instead as she was home for the day.

"I would love the children to come and stay," Mrs. Clarke said when Lillian told her about the overcrowding issues and the plans to bring more children to the Downton Foundling Home. "That girl is a godsend. She does the work without complaining and has her brother and his friend doing most of the lifting for Bill these days. He shouldn't be doing all the heavy lifting but he is too stubborn to admit it."

"Perhaps we could have a small meeting with the rest of the family later this afternoon after the shop closes," Lillian suggested.

"That will be fine," Mrs. Clarke agreed. "You might as well ask Kieran to come along as well. My son-in-law collects children like butterflies, as you know. You might be able to talk him into one or two as well."

"Lorna would skin me alive after the last time," Lillian replied with a laugh.

By the end of the day it was arranged Anya, Gregor and fifteen year old Gunter would move in with Mr. and Mrs. Clarke. Both of the boys were good workers and taking three children between the ages of fourteen and sixteen would not be overly taxing for the Clarkes as the boys were used to helping with laundry and a myriad of chores at the foundling home. Kieran and Lorna had decided to take Walter and his brother Tim as well. Liam could manage the livestock at the home with Hans help and would teach some of the new boys how to milk once they arrived.

Fiala, Mary and Anya were all in tears by the time Anya was packed for the move.

"I don't know why we are crying," Fiala said. "You will still be in the village and we can visit whenever we want."

"Because we are like sisters," Mary wailed hugging Anya yet again.

"You can come over and visit me whenever you like," Anya said. "I will have my own room. Gregor and Gunter will share and you will see them at school everyday next year."

Kieran, Lorna and Lillian arrived just before dark to pick everyone up and walk them to their new homes. Walter and Tim were looking frightened when they found out they would be living with an Irish Catholic family. As soon as Lorna who they knew arrived and they found out they would be staying with Quinlan and Declan's parents they were happy as a pair of bouncing puppies.

"I guess we can go to whatever church they want," Walter informed Tim.

"Do you have any cows?" Tim asked Kieran when they were about to leave.

"I'm afraid not," Kieran replied.

"My uncle doesn't have any cows but he can teach you anything you want to know about cars and lorries and motorcycles," Liam told him.

"Really?" Walter asked with large eyes.

"Sure enough," Kieran replied. "We'll get you settled then you can come down to the garage and help out tomorrow or the next day."

"Let's go," Tim said grabbing his case and dragging his brother out the door behind him.

Lorna just laughed and shook her head as her husband headed down the street carrying a case in each hand with a little boy on either side bouncing along happily.


	28. Letters from Home Part II

Letters from Home – Part II

Chapter Five – Brothers

"Declan," Anya said with an exhale when she looked up from her work at the cheese shop in mid-October and saw a man who she thought was Declan standing in the doorway in an army uniform.

"Afraid not. I'm Brody his older brother."

"Hello. It is nice to meet you. I am Anya. I work for your grandparents. I will get your Grandfather he is out back," Anya said with a smile.

Brody smiled in return. _"Granddad is a sly old devil hiring such a beautiful girl to work at his shop. The blokes from miles around must be lined up at the door on market day," _he thought. He would definitely be over on a regular basis during his two-week leave.

"Brody, you're home safe and sound," Mr. Clarke said as he came out and wrapped Brody in a hug.

"Just for two weeks Granddad," he replied.

"You've met Anya?"

"Yes," Brody replied smiling at her.

"Fiala will be very excited to finally meet you," Anya said.

"We met Anya when your brother asked her to come by and visit us," Mr. Clarke said.

"Quinlan?" Brody inquired.

"No, Declan," Anya replied. "I write to Declan and Fiala writes to you. We started last Christmas."

Brody's hopes had sunk a bit when he heard Anya was writing to his brother. His younger brother would seek out the most beautiful girl he could find and have her write to him.

"Now Anya and her brother live with us," Mr. Clarke told Brody.

"And Gunter," Anya added.

"Do you know my brother?" Brody inquired hoping the answer would be no.

"I know Declan a little," Anya replied. "He showed me how to make cheese last summer when I lived at the orphanage. I know Quinlan better."

"Why don't you stop by the house this evening," Mr. Clarke said to Brody as a group of customers entered the shop. Anya was occupied waiting on them. "It will give you a chance to visit with Gran and you can meet the boys. They both have part time jobs milking after school out at Merry Hill Farm. They ride your and Declan's old bicycles over after school."

"Sure Granddad," Brody replied.

"I will invite Fiala over," Anya supplied between customers.

"Thank you. I would like to meet her," Brody said before he left.

-0-

"What do you know about that girl Granddad has working for him," Brody asked his mother when he got back to his parent's cottage.

"She's a nice girl who came here as a refuge from Czechoslovakia," his mother replied. "Her parents are most likely dead. She and her brother are living with your grandparents. They have another boy too. He is from Austria. His father was killed when they were captured trying to escape into Switzerland. He doesn't know what happened to his mother and older sister, but he seems to think they are dead. Don't say anything when you meet him." Lorna warned.

"After what I've seen in North Africa nothing would surprise me," Brody replied. "Don't worry I won't say anything. So you and Da are at it again raising another two?"

"We haven't legally adopted the boys yet. Their parents are dead and their surviving relatives refused to assume responsibility. They have nowhere to go. They're not bad boys and they idolize your father."

"That sounds familiar," Brody said with a laugh.

"He is rather like the pied piper," Lorna replied.

Brody set about making a cup of tea for his mother and himself before he made any more inquiries about Anya.

"Is Anya Declan's girl?" he asked as he set the cup and saucer in front of his mother then carried the tea pot to the table.

"I'm not sure," his mother replied.

"Fiala always stops by and shares your letters, but Anya never shares the letters she gets from your brother. She is awfully good to your grandparents. I don't worry about them as much now they have the children staying with them."

"Anya is hardly a child, Ma," Brody said.

"She just turned seventeen. She isn't an old lady," Lorna replied. "You're asking a lot of questions. Has she taken your eye?"

Brody just flushed in response.

"Gran says she's turned down more than one young man who has asked her out. She could have an understanding with your brother or she could be exactly what she seems, a very nice girl who has the responsibility of raising a younger brother on her mind. The other girl Fiala is nice too and pretty in her own way. Have you met her yet?"

"No, I'll probably meet her this evening," Brody said. "She writes me a letter every two weeks as regular as clock work. She says it is to practice her English writing."

"Or maybe it is because she saw your picture at your grandparents' and likes the way you smile," his mother teased.

"Oh, Ma. I hardly think so," Brody groaned.

"My sons are all handsome," Lorna declared. "What girl wouldn't like you as her beau?"

"The one working at Granddad's shop," Brody replied with a laugh.

"You don't know that," his mother said before she took a sip of her tea.

-0-

Liam arrived at the Clarke's that evening in the company of Fiala and Mary. They were both terribly excited to be meeting Fiala's pen friend. Anya had been busy making popcorn after supper and Mrs. Clarke had allowed her to bring half a dozen bottles of apple cider out of the cellar. Mrs. Clarke had the cider heating on the stove with a touch of cinnamon. Brody arrived at his grandparents that evening to be greeted by a room full of young teenagers and his older cousin.

"This lot is making me feel younger all the time," Mr. Clarke said when he greeted Brody.

"We have cider to drink. Would you like some?" Anya inquired once Brody had been introduced to everyone.

"Or would you rather a glass of ale?" his Granddad inquired. "This lot isn't old enough for anything beyond cider."

"Cider will be fine," Brody said. He had to admit Fiala was a pretty girl, although not as immediately stunning as Anya. Anya had a coolness about her that said hands off which Fiala lacked. Every time he looked in Fiala's direction he caught her watching him followed by an immediate blush. She was perhaps a tad young for him but at the same time she would be finished school in the spring and fair game after that.

"Fiala wrote me you boys like fishing," Brody said.

"We go often," Gunter replied. "Anya thinks she can fish but Fiala is better at it."

"You just don't like it because I always catch a larger fish," Anya replied.

"I usually catch the most," Fiala said blushing. "There isn't one of the new boys at the home that knows how to catch fish."

"They'll get the hang of it," Liam said. "We just have to teach them how."

"I would like fish for dinner. I wish they would hurry up," Mary said.

"I'll take them Saturday. Would that suit you?" Liam asked Mary with a laugh.

"Yes, then it will be an easy dinner. I am cooking Saturday," Mary said.

"And I will cook Sunday," Fiala added. "Then I can go fishing on Saturday too. Would you like to come Brody? If Liam says it is permitted."

"I think my cousin is permitted to come fishing if he likes," Liam said with a chuckle.

"I wouldn't mind trying for a fish or two," Brody said. "It's been a while since I've had trout for supper. Are you coming Anya?"

"I will work," Anya replied.

"I think you can all go," Mr. Clarke said. "As long as they boys make it to their milking job on time."

"Thank you, Mr. Clarke," Anya said with a smile.

"Yes, we can take our bicycles and leave from the fishing," Gregor said.

"Just don't leave things too late," Mr. Clarke replied. "And I want to see your homework done before you go fishing."

"Yes, Sir," the boys replied smiling in anticipation of their afternoon outing.

"Are you finished school this year?" Brody asked the boys.

"No," Gunter replied. "We each have two years and Fiala has one. We lost too much time learning English and being sent here."

"I will be seventeen in a few months," Fiala added. "I should have been finished this year but I will finish school in the spring."

"It is one of the conditions we've put on the home that every child we take in or place has to finish grade school. We've had people looking for laborers but we don't allow it. Part time work like the boys have is fine as long as they attend school regularly," Liam said.

"Good," Brody replied. "I was only little but I still remember that old scab at the workhouse asking Da if he wanted me as an apprentice."

"You were adopted?" Fiala asked in surprise.

"We all were," Liam replied. "Myself, two of my sisters, Quinlan, Brody, Declan and Honor from a place that made a jail look pleasant."

"I was in a jail," Gunter said. He seldom talked about anything that had happened to him before he left Austria.

"It is not the kind of place I would run or have anything to do with," Liam said. "Speaking of that it is time to get the girls back. They both have school in the morning."

"And I get to sleep in for the first time in over two years," Brody said. "I'll probably wake up at dawn. You got a motorbike stashed anywhere?" he asked Liam.

"In the shed at Da's. The keys are in the kitchen. Just don't crash it."

"I think I know how to drive," Brody said with a grin.

"U-huh. I believe you," Liam replied with an eye roll to get under Brody's skin before he headed out the door to escort the girls back to Crawley House.

-0-

"On Saturday Brody headed over to Crawley House at the appointed time with Tim on the back of the motorcycle. Walter was spending the day pumping petrol at the garage and pestering Honor with questions about the car repairs she was doing.

"Some things never change," Brody had said when he stopped by that morning.

"I don't think I was ever that bad," Honor grumbled from under the hood of a car where she was adjusting the timing. Walter had gone outside to pump petrol.

"We all were and you were the worst of the lot," Brody reminded her.

"Maybe I was," Honor said with a laugh when she straightened up. "Except you're forgetting the King of Cheese never thought of anything but cheese and fishing." It had been their old knick name for Declan and they still used it amongst themselves.

"And girls," Brody added.

"That too," Honor replied.

"What about you, any boyfriends?"

"Where am I going to find one that doesn't try and tell me how to do car repairs?" Honor inquired. "Besides all the young men my age are in the army."

"You have a point. I better get going. I'm supposed to go fishing with Liam and a bunch from the orphanage."

"Have fun," Honor said going back to her repair.

Through the day Brody noticed that Liam tired quickly. His mother had written that Liam had a set back last summer. He had brought a lawn chair and blanket to wrap up in. Brody had cocked a questioning eyebrow at him until Liam had explained he wasn't supposed to get chilled.

Brody had thought they had a good pile of fish once they had caught eight.

"I've got thirty mouths to feed," Liam told him. "We need at least fifteen."

Brody was watching Anya and Fiala giving instructions on some of the finer points of fishing to some of the younger English children. The boys had been right about the girl's skill at fishing. So far Fiala had caught the most.

"They're bossy little things, aren't they?" Brody said to Liam pointing to the girls.

"Too much responsibility too early," Liam replied. "Anya can run a household by herself. It's a good thing she is over with your grandparents. They're too old to be on their own anymore. Fiala could probably run a house too in a pinch, although you never know what either of them will decide to feed you."

"Do either of them have beaus?" Brody inquired.

Liam gave him a sideways glance.

"As far as Anya, I don't know. Fiala isn't allowed out without a chaperone or with at least six others. Your brother asked Anya out before he left and got a surprise when she had a group lined up at the door to go with them. I have other things to worry about at the moment."

Brody spotted Fiala coaching some little boys while they were trying to reel in a fish. He wandered over to watch and then congratulated the boys when they had the fish in the net. He asked Fiala to go for a walk with him along the stream. Three children wanting to go with them quickly surrounded them. Brody had been thinking about trying to steal a kiss but was quickly realizing Liam's warning about chaperones hadn't been in jest. As they walked Fiala pulled a small branch from a spruce tree and showed it to the other children and told them how much she wanted them to collect.

"We don't have lemon. I will put it in the pan with the fish while it cooks. It gives a nice flavor," she said.

"Do you like to cook?" Brody asked her. He was realizing that despite the letters she had sent he really knew very little about her.

"It's alright. Someone has to cook so I do."

"What do you like to do?" Brody asked.

"Dance, but there is no opportunity here for me," she replied. "I was in a dance group back home in Prague before the soldiers sent me to an orphanage but that is over."

"What kind of dancing did you do?"

"Folk dances, partner dances, all kinds."

"There is a harvest dance next Friday in Ripon. Would you like to go?"

"I would very much like to go," Fiala said with a radiant smile. "But I must ask for permission and have a chaperone."

Brody had been about to take Fiala's hand until he was headed off by the children coming back with handfuls of spruce and taking up positions on either side of her. When they got back to the group Fiala went straight to Anya and launched into an animated discussion after she had put the spruce pieces into the basket with the fish. Brody was watching the goings on ruefully. With all these roadblocks he would die a virgin at the rate things were going. He had been planning on finding a girl while on leave and getting past second base but so far the only two he had met were an ice queen and a pretty girl who he liked quite a lot and seemed to like him in return that kept herself surrounded by people at all times. He didn't have long to ponder when Fiala and Anya came over to talk to him.

"Anya will ask Mr. and Mrs. Clarke to be chaperones for the dance so we can come. Liam should agree if they will watch," Fiala said.

"I have Wednesday free. I will cook food from home if you would like to come for dinner," Anya said. "Fiala will ask if she can come and bring Hans."

Brody was a bit taken aback by their arranging and Fiala inviting other people on what he considered to be a date, but Liam had warned him. He just hadn't expected the girls to be quite so quick to arrange his social calendar for him.

"Thank you, Anya. I would like to come and it will give me time to spend with my grandparents as well," Brody said. _"Just not an opportunity to even get a kiss,"_ he added inside his head.

Chapter Six – Surprises

Declan stepped off the train late Wednesday and headed for his parent's cottage. He was home on a month's leave. The patrol boat he had been serving on had been sunk by a German destroyer. Three of the crew had died and two were still missing and presumed dead. Everyone else had made it into the lifeboats to watch the ship burn before she went to the bottom. They had been in the lifeboats about twelve hours when they had been picked up. Declan would receive his new post when he returned to Plymouth in a month.

"Declan!" Honor cried as she spotted him when he walked in the back door. She jumped up and ran to throw her arms around her brother in a massive hug.

"What are you doing home, son?" Kieran inquired after he had hugged Declan. "We weren't expecting you?"

"My ship went down. I'm on a month's leave to collect myself," Declan replied.

"Are you alright? You weren't hurt were you?" his mother fussed while she hugged him then ran her hands over his arms.

"I'm fine Ma, just tired. I feel like I could sleep for a week," Declan said.

His mother looked him over to assure herself he was fine before she spoke again.

"What a treat it is to have our sons home from the war at the same time," Lorna commented.

"Brody is home for two weeks," his father added.

"Where is he?" Declan asked looking around for his brother.

"He went over to your grandparent's for dinner. Anya is making some kind of special dinner for him," Kieran answered.

"He's where!" Declan said suddenly seeing red. His and Anya's letters had been becoming increasingly personal, well at least his had and as far as he was concerned Anya was his. The only person he wanted her making a special dinner for was himself.

"Brody is sweet on one of those Czech girls," Honor contributed.

"Declan where are you going?" his mother called after him as he grabbed his uniform coat and flat top and headed out the door.

"To see Brody," he called over his shoulder. "And punch his lights out," he added silently.

Declan stood on his grandparent's doorstep feeling foolish after he knocked. His jealousy had cooled a bit on the walk over. Anya wasn't officially his girlfriend yet. She had only said she would like to get to know him better and she had every right to spend time with whomever she pleased. Still it wracked his nerves to think of loosing her to his brother.

"Declan," his grandfather exclaimed when he opened the door.

"Hello Granddad, I'm home for a month," Declan said as he stepped in and hugged his grandfather.

As soon as his grandmother saw him she came to hug him as well.

"What are you doing home?" Mrs. Clarke inquired.

"My ship went down. I have a month leave," Declan replied. "Da said Brody was over here."

Declan entered the sitting room to see Brody sitting on the sofa beside a girl with brown hair Declan vaguely remembered from the Downton Foundling Home. There were three younger boys who were busy setting the table or sitting listening to something Brody was telling them.

When Brody spotted Declan he came over immediately to give his brother a hug.

"Two years is too long," Brody said when they had released each other. "You didn't send word you were coming."

"Lost my boat so I have leave for a month. What are you doing here?"

"Two weeks until redeployment. I managed to get enough leave to make the trip home," Brody replied.

"Have you eaten?" Mrs. Clarke inquired. "I'll have the boys set another plate."

"No, I haven't had anything, Gran. I've just arrived," Declan replied. "Where's Anya?"

"Cooking up a storm," Mr. Clarke replied. "Anya and her friend wanted to do something special for Brody. Come and meet the boys."

Declan was reintroduced to Fiala and the boys in the room. He vaguely remembered Hans from the orphanage. They way Fiala was gazing at his brother in admiration made Declan feel a little relieved.

"This will be a surprise for Anya," Fiala said. "You stay here and we will put cover over her eyes."

Fiala went into the kitchen with one of the boys and returned guiding Anya back into the room with a tea towel tied over her eyes.

"Start putting the dishes on the table before the dinner is ruined," they could hear Anya saying before she was lead out of the kitchen. Gregor snuck back into the sitting room behind Anya so he wouldn't miss the surprise. "Fiala this is silly. I don't want the holubky to burn," Anya complained.

Declan and Brody were standing side by side when Fiala undid the blindfold. It took a second for Anya to recover from the surprise before she was across the room in a flash with her arms around Declan. Everyone in the room was speechless at the sight of Anya and Declan standing in the middle of his grandparent's sitting room locked in an embrace with his lips firmly on hers. Anya stepped back almost as quickly as she had dashed across the room with her hands covering her burning red cheeks.

"Declan, welcome back," she said. "You are getting skinny. You need to eat." Anya looked at Brody with an embarrassed glance. "You are both too skinny. We will eat now." She turned around and dashed back into the kitchen.

"I guess that answers the question of whether or not she's your sweetheart," Brody said slapping his brother on the back.

"She is and don't you forget it," Declan replied in a low voice.

"Fiala and I will help Anya get the food on the table while the rest of you get washed up," Mrs. Clarke said finally recovering from the surprise. The men and boys were all seated at the table by the time Mrs. Clarke and the girls joined them. Anya was still blushing in embarrassment. There were four different dishes on the table by the time Anya was done with a bowl of sour cream and another of fried onions.

"You must have used all the rations for two weeks for this feast. It looks wonderful," Mr. Clarke praised Anya.

"Most is vegetable except the sausage," she replied looking down and blushing yet again.

"It looks wonderful, Anya," Declan said. He was gazing at her with a rather lovesick expression that made the younger boys elbow each other in the ribs and giggle.

"I've asked Fiala here to a dance on Friday," Brody said. "We were just making arrangements for Gran and Granddad to come along as well as Anya when you arrived. You want to come?"

"What? Yeah, sure whatever you say Brody," Declan replied only half listening.

Gregor said something to Fiala in Czech that made her put her hand over her mouth to prevent herself from spitting out her mouthful of food when she started to laugh.

"He says your brother looks like a sick calf in spring," she whispered to Brody, which made Brody break out into a wide smile.

"Be quiet, Gregor," Anya said in English blushing yet again. She took a piece of sausage off her plate and shoved it in her brother's mouth to shut him up.

"Tell us a bit about life at sea, Declan," Mr. Clarke said to ease the awkwardness. He and his wife had exchanged a knowing smile across the table.

Declan's attention was finally diverted from Anya while he told them about a few of the adventures and things he had experienced in the navy. The meal was good even if he had no idea what the different dishes were called. There weren't any left overs as the three boys had practically inhaled the last of each dish once everyone else was finished. As soon as the washing up was done Brody left to walk Fiala and Hans back to Crawley House. Hans thanked Mr. and Mrs. Clarke for the invitation again before he left.

The two boys sat down to the table to do their homework while the Clarke's went to sit in the sitting room and listen to the radio.

"Would you like to take a walk?" Declan asked Anya.

"I don't know if this is permissible," Anya replied shyly. She was still embarrassed by her forward behavior earlier.

"Granddad, do you mind if Anya goes for a walk with me?" Declan inquired not taking his eyes off of Anya.

"A short walk for twenty minutes or so won't hurt anything," his grandfather replied.

"Gregor you come too," Anya said.

"No Anya, I have school work and I have to unload the milk cart tomorrow before school. I don't have time," Gregor replied.

"Gunter?"

"I'm stuck on these problems. I need Mr. Clarke to help me," Gunter replied taking his book to the older man and exchanging a grin with Gregor.

"Twenty minutes only," Anya said shyly to Declan. "Then I will come right back."

Their walk seemed to be over in a flash to Declan. It was a nice evening with a bright moon that gave enough light to make their walk to the edge of the village and back navigable despite the black out restrictions. Anya allowed Declan to hold her hand but wouldn't allow him to get close enough to her to kiss her again. When they got back to the house Anya grazed his cheek with a quick kiss before she quickly went in the house.

By the time Declan got back to his parent's Brody was already there and almost ready for bed.

"I hope you're treating Anya as you should," his mother chided Declan when he walked in the door.

"Ma, I'm nineteen. I know how to court a girl," Declan said turning red.

"I'm glad you know how to court those two," Brody grumbled. "I ask one of them to a dance on Friday and the next thing I know they have a car full going and I am being invited to dinner at our grandparents."

"I think I'll come along to the dance as well," Honor said.

Brody rolled his eyes in response.

"Stop your complaining," their mother scolded. "They're both nice girls who want to do things properly not like those tarts you used to chase after when you were younger."

"If one of you doesn't marry the one that's living with your Gran and Granddad, I'll kick your arses," their father commented from behind his newspaper.

"Da, she'll barely let me hold her hand. Marriage is a long way off," Declan replied.

"If you don't grab her there is a line up of men who will," his father stated.

"He's right you know," Brody added.

"Oh shut up and concentrate on that brown haired one," Declan said with a groan. "I'm going to bed."

"You'll have to share Quinlan's old room with Brody," his mother said. "Walter and Tim are in your room. Don't make too much noise. They're already asleep."

"So how did you crack the ice maiden?" Brody asked Quinlan when they were getting ready for bed in their room.

"I'm not sure and don't call my girl that," Declan replied as he slid between the sheets on his side of the bed.

"I've only got eight days to get Fiala to let me do anything with her," Brody said in exasperation.

"If you're looking for that, I think you're looking in the wrong place," Declan said. "I've known Anya for over a year and today is the first time she's let me anywhere near her. That kiss was a big surprise." He got a dreamy look on his face. "You should see her in a swimsuit. She puts the pinup girls to shame."

"You've got it bad," Brody said.

"Shut up and go to sleep. If you go anywhere near Anya I'll choke you."

"I'll stick to Fiala," Brody replied. "She seems to like me. At least I think she does."

"U-huh," Declan murmured as he was already drifting off.

-0-

Anya was blurry eyed the next morning when she flipped the sign on the shop door to open and served the first customer of the day. She had barely slept the night before reliving the feel of kissing Declan over and over in her mind. It had felt wonderful and she had completely forgotten everything for a few minutes when she first saw him. Mr. and Mrs. Clarke hadn't seemed mad. If it had happened back home they would be talking to the priest this morning. Things here were certainly different when it came to boys. Back home you would walk to church with a group of friends and you might meet at a dance you were attending with your parents. If the boy liked you his parents would ask your parents if they would agree to your marriage and after a few months you would get married.

The girls in school had made beaus and kissing sound like a game. It was all very confusing and she had no idea at what point you started spending time alone together. Her heart had beat almost out of her chest last night when they went for a walk alone. Things were happening so quickly and no one seemed to think it the least odd. Her nerves had twisted in fear and excitement at being on her own for the first time with her new beau. Sometimes girls referred to boys as their boyfriend. She wasn't sure what the difference was or if there was any.

At her lunch break Anya walked to the general mercantile and looked at the lipstick on display. She would like to wear lip rouge and powder to the dance as was the fashion. Mr. Clarke had set up a bank account for each of them. He collected the boys' wages from their employer and put them right in the bank to make sure the boys were not being short changed. Her wages went directly into the bank as well. She had never taken any money out as the Clarke's supplied everything her brother and her needed. Anya spotted a compact set that had a lipstick that fit in a case with some powder. The lady at the shop came over and helped her choose the right color powder for her fair skin and showed her how to put the lipstick on. Anya asked her to hold the compact until tomorrow lunch when she would go to the bank then be back to collect her purchase. She walked back to the shop with the lipstick still on her mouth.

"What have you been up to then?" Mr. Clarke asked her when he spotted the lipstick. Lorna was in today helping for the afternoon as well.

"I was trying lip rouge for the dance tomorrow. May I have my passbook? I will get money from the bank tomorrow and buy some. The lady at the store across the way is holding it for me," Anya said. "I think it looks funny with my hair up."

"You look very nice dear," Lorna said with a small smile. It was obvious how taken Declan was with the girl after her mother had told her about the happenings at the dinner the previous evening. It was rather sweet that Anya was trying something new to please one of her sons.

"Yes, that's fine," Mr. Clarke said. "The passbook is in the safe in the office. Just let me know when you're going to the bank."

"What are you going to wear to the dance?" Lorna asked her.

"My church dress. It is my best," Anya replied.

Lorna nodded. Anya's clothes were all hand me downs she had received from the orphanage and the dress she always wore to church was plain in the extreme. The girl never spent a penny on herself. It seemed when she wasn't working here at the shop she was busy doing housework or cooking for Lorna's parents.

"It's not busy Da. I think I'll go over to the house and visit Mam for a bit," Lorna told her father.

Lorna headed over the collect her mother for a quick shopping trip to the general store and a stop at the ladies ready to wear in Ripon. When Anya arrived home with Mr. Clarke that evening she was surprised to find a collection of boxes waiting for her on the dining room table.

"I cannot accept all this," Anya said when she opened the parcels to find her compact, a new light blue dress and a matching pair of shoes.

"Yes, you can," Mrs. Clarke informed her. "We don't pay you for all the work you do around the house. Besides you need something nice to make those grandsons of mine sit up and take notice."

"You are not mad I prefer Declan?" Anya asked shyly.

"No dear. Why would we be?" Mrs. Clarke asked.

"I was too forward with Declan yesterday," Anya confessed.

"You welcomed home your beau from war, dear. It was only natural," Mrs. Clarke reassured her. "Now go try on your new dress and shoes."

Anya smiled and nodded then took the parcel to her room to try everything on. When she reemerged to the sitting room Mr. Clarke whistled.

"You'll have the boys lined up in a queue wanting to dance. I'll have my hands full," he said.

Mrs. Clarke waited to say anything until Anya was out of earshot changing in her room.

"If that doesn't get a proposal out of our grandson, I'll be surprised," Mrs. Clarke said quietly to her husband.

"Thank goodness he's not interested anymore in that Sally Hyde he was sniffing around before he went off to the navy. She's the worst kind of tart," Mr. Clarke said. "You don't think he has any idea we've all been matchmaking since before he left do you?"

"No, I don't think either of them do. Now be quiet before you ruin things," Mrs. Clarke replied.

* * *

Chapter 7 – The Big Mouthed Brother

"Both Anya and Fiala were from fairly well off families," Alice informed Brody and Declan when they stopped by to visit her and their niece on Friday morning. "You do realize in their culture they are at marrying age. If you ask one of them to be your girl or do anything more than hold hands it is next to a marriage proposal."

"I'm engaged and didn't know it?" Declan asked paling slightly.

"Not exactly, in her mind you're engaged to be engaged," Sybil said. "You've asked her to be your sweetheart and she will be expecting a proposal in the very near future. She fretted for days when you sent that letter."

"But they're both so distant," Brody exclaimed with his forehead wrinkled in puzzlement.

"Not really," Sybil replied. "In their world your parents would ask the girls' parents if you could go out with them. Everything would be heavily chaperoned. They really don't understand casual dating or kissing more than one boy. Anya's brother will one day meet a girl at church or a party and have his sister do the asking when the time comes. She will probably go on a few dates with him as a chaperone. Anya cooking a family meal for you and Fiala is their way of expressing Fiala's interest in a closer relationship. Something akin to the aristocratic relatives inviting someone to stay."

"Bloody hell," Brody exclaimed. "She brought a kid with her."

"Brody language," Alice scolded. "The children who have lived here for the last two or three years have no family so they create a family amongst themselves. We thought you should know what you're getting yourself into."

"What are you talking about that has these two looking like deer caught in a bright light at nighttime?" Liam asked when he came wandering into the sitting room. All of the children except their own little ones were at school.

"The nuances of dating girls from Czechoslovakia," Sybil replied.

"They don't exactly date," Liam said. "Besides we're responsible for Fiala while she is living here which means no messing about."

"Or getting caught like you did," Brody couldn't resist the jibe.

"Lay a finger on her and I'll have you at the priest so fast it will make my marriage look slow," Liam warned.

"Noted," Brody replied.

"You've given us both something to think about," Declan said thoughtfully.

-0-

"You ready to do this?" Brody asked his brother as they were about to leave for the dance. Brody had been brooding all afternoon since their conversation with Sybil and Alice.

"Cheer up at least you know she likes you," Declan replied.

"Yours obviously likes you enough to consider marrying you," Brody said. "What the hell am I supposed to do with Fiala? Marry her one day and send her back to school the next?"

"There are worse things in life than a wife who looks like a goddess and knows how to cook. Yours isn't exactly ugly either," Declan replied.

They collected Honor then went over to pick up Anya and their grandparents. When Anya walked out of the house with her hair down falling in large soft curls around her face and bright lipstick on her mouth Declan had to catch himself before he took her into his arms and kissed her senseless. He didn't close his mouth until his Gran pushed his jaw shut. Brody was standing beside the car with his mouth hanging open.

"You look lovely," Declan finally managed to stammer before he grazed Anya's cheek with a quick kiss.

When they arrived at Crawley House, Brody went to the door to collect Fiala. He was speechless when the creature that came down the stairs bore almost no resemblance to the school girl he had asked out the previous weekend. Fiala had her hair down with it falling in soft waves down her back. She was wearing make up Alice had applied for her. She had spent the previous afternoon digging through the boxes of clothes in the storage room until she had found the prettiest dress she could that was close to her size and devoted the evening to taking it in. Sybil had loaned Fiala a pair of stockings and dress shoes to go with the dress. The result was someone who could turn heads in any crowd she walked into.

"Hello Brody. Are your grandparents with you?" Fiala inquired.

"They're in the car with the others," Brody replied not really registering his response. He was too busy staring. "You look so…so" he wanted to say grown up but thought better of it, "pretty," he finally blurted out. "You look very pretty."

"Thank you," Fiala said flashing him a smile.

"Have a good time and behave yourself," Liam warned with a parting glare at Brody.

"My grandparents are with us and my sister. Exactly what do you think I can get up to?" Brody said before he followed Fiala out to the car where she was already sitting with the other two girls in the middle seat. Brody and Declan exchanged a shrug before they both piled in the front for the drive into the next town.

"Brody I want to dance, too," Honor complained after sitting out the first two dances.

"Ask Declan," Brody said not wanting to let go of Fiala.

"He's too busy gawking at Anya," Honor said.

Brody glanced over to see his brother giving an approaching man in uniform a dirty look before placing his arm protectively around his girl.

"It is alright, Brody. I will sit with your grandparents," Fiala said. Brody had been busy handing out his own share of dirty looks when other service men looked like they were going to approach. He wasn't sure what was going on but he was feeling incredibly jealous and more protective every minute.

When the music stopped after his dance with Honor, Brody looked over to see three men attempting to engage Fiala in conversation. She smiled and then laughed slightly at something one of them said. His Gran was sitting beside her and smiling politely but not shoeing the men away either. Brody could feel the color coming to his face as he practically drug his sister back across the room to Fiala's side. He could see Declan and Anya standing by the refreshments table with her sipping a glass of punch.

"Let's go and have your picture taken," Brody said to Fiala as soon as he arrived back to where she was sitting. He hadn't even noticed what the man who was speaking to her was saying.

"Steady on, I was just asking this nice girl for a dance," the man said.

"That nice girl is my girl," Brody said letting his jealousy get the better of him.

"You've got two?" one of the men asked.

"This is my sister," Brody replied. He reached his hand out to take Fiala's in his. "And this one is my sweetheart."

Fiala rose to her feet and turned a beaming smile on him.

"Sorry mate," one of the men said. As Brody lead Fiala away towards the photo booth the men started chatting up Honor.

Brody stopped suddenly as they were making their way through the crowd. _"What the hell did I just do?"_ he questioned himself.

"Brody?" Fiala questioned.

"Do you want to be my sweetheart?" he asked her.

Her only response was a nod and a smile.

"Good then let's get that picture taken," he said.

The two of them were back on the dance floor shuffling around to a slow tune when Brody spotted Sally Hyde heading towards his brother. She looked as though she had been drinking and was wobbling as she walked.

"Oh no," Brody groaned. He took Fiala back to his grandparents as quickly as he could only to see a commotion starting on the other side of the room with a horrified Anya looking on. He made it to his brother's location just in time to hear him say, "Leave me alone you miserable cow."

"What's the matter with you? That's not what you said last year before you left. Now that you're a big navy man with a foreign tart on your arm, you think you're too high and mighty for the local girls."

"Sally I don't want anything to do with you. Now or ever," Declan stated. He moved to guide Anya away from the inebriated woman only to have Sally throw herself at him and wrap her arms around his neck.

"Come on give us a kiss for old times sake," Sally slurred.

"The answer is no," Declan said trying to untangle himself but not having much luck.

"Anya, come on. Go back to Gran and Granddad while I help Declan get this straightened out," Brody said to her quietly.

Anya nodded and headed across the room to Brody's grandparents.

"Sally enough. Get off me," Declan tried again while twisting and turning trying to get away from her.

"Come on Sally. Leave Declan alone," Brody tried taking her arm. "Aren't you here with someone?"

"I could be here with you," she slurred trying to launch herself at Brody.

"I think not," he said finally guiding her towards the door where the people selling tickets were. Once Sally got a blast of fresh air coming from the area with the blackout curtains by the door she passed out in a chair.

Brody got back to their party to find Anya crying on his Gran's shoulder with Declan desperately trying to apologize.

"Sally made it sound like he's been running around on Anya since he's been home," Honor said. "She's really upset."

"Anya, I swear I haven't been out with that girl since before I met you," Declan pleaded.

"The things the girls said about you at school were true," Anya sobbed

"Maybe they were. I don't know what they said about me," Declan tried.

Fiala was standing to the side wringing her hands.

"You two have made a fine mess of things," their Granddad chided them.

"We haven't done a damn thing since we've both been back except visit with family and do a little shopping," Brody said feeling a sense of dread. "Anya, Fiala we haven't been chasing after other girls. I promise. We're both thinking about getting married." He realized what he'd blurted out when Declan elbowed him in the ribs. "Well at least I am," he added.

Anya was so shocked she stopped crying and looked at Brody then Declan. The rest of their party was looking at Brody with their mouths hanging slightly open. Fiala and Anya looked at each other then suddenly broke out in huge smiles.

"Married?" Anya asked looking up at Declan and smiling with the tears still stuck to her lashes.

Declan was standing there with his face turning red.

"You go to the washroom and fix your face, dear," Mrs. Clarke said to Anya. "When you get back you and Declan can have a chat."

Declan and their grandfather both turned to look at Brody with an arched looked once Anya and Honor had left for the ladies room.

"For God's sake, this is a dance. Let's go dance," Brody said taking Fiala by the hand and leading her back out onto the dance floor.

"Brody what are you saying?" Fiala asked him while they were dancing.

"I meant I'll come over tomorrow and take you for a motorcycle ride and we can talk over getting married."

"I…," Fiala started then stopped. She didn't know what to say.

"Look Fiala, I'm only home a few more days. I could be stationed in England for a bit or they could send me overseas again right away. I don't have time for fancy proposals or courting by the book. We can talk about it tomorrow and you can give me your answer then," Brody said.

She nodded then moved closer to lay her head on Brody's shoulder during a slow number.

"Happy?" he whispered in her ear.

She nodded against him. Brody spent the rest of the dance alternating between thinking about how good it felt to hold her against him and disbelief that he had proposed during the middle of a dance to a girl he'd never kissed. At one point he spotted his brother back on the dance floor slow dancing with Anya. His brother could take care of his own life. Right now Brody had his own affairs to settle.

-0-

"Are you crazy? You've only known the girl a week and a half," Declan said once they had everyone dropped off and were back at the house storing the car in the garage.

"I need a drink," Brody said. "Da should have a few stashed out here somewhere."

"I wasn't planning on proposing tonight. I was going to wait a few weeks," Declan continued.

"Found 'em," Brody said pulling two bottles out of a crate in the back of the garage and handing one to his brother.

"Don't you have anything to say for yourself?"

"I'm lonely, randy and could get killed any day when I get sent back to active duty. She's beautiful, untouched, clever and thinks I walk on water. Besides she writes me letters constantly. Things could be worse," Brody said. "She hasn't answered me yet."

"You haven't even kissed her," Declan stated.

"So. We've both kissed Sally Hyde and that wasn't a particularly enthralling experience."

"Christ don't remind me," Declan said. "I wish I'd never laid eyes on that woman."

"So you're engaged now?" Brody asked.

"Yes. I'll buy the ring on Wednesday when she has her day off." Declan took a long drink almost finishing the bottle in one pull. "Life with those two around is like being caught in a whirlwind."

"It certainly isn't boring, and they're both stunning," Brody replied.

"I'm getting another one," Declan said holding up his empty bottle. "You want one?"

"Keep them coming," Brody said.

The next morning Brody came down the stairs wearing a pair of dark glasses grabbed a bun from the counter and headed out the door after giving his mother a kiss on the cheek.

Declan was sitting at the table absently pushing his scrambled eggs around his plate.

"What's got into you two this morning?" his mother asked. Tim and Walter were at the table as well. Honor and Kieran had already left for the garage.

"We had an interesting night," Declan said. "I'm going over to spend the day at Grandad's shop."

"How interesting?" Lorna pushed.

Declan got up and went to his coat pocket and gave his mother a copy of a picture with him and Anya together.

"Brody opened his big mouth and twenty minutes later I was engaged," Declan said dejectedly. "He's gone to get an answer."

"An answer to what?" Lorna asked.

"Whether or not Fiala will marry him," Declan said.

"Who are you going to marry?" Walter asked. He was always full of a million questions.

"Anya," Declan replied.

"She makes good pancakes. She'll make a great wife," Walter said.

"I don't know what to say," Lorna said sliding into a chair at the table.

"Don't say anything yet, Fiala hasn't accepted Brody and Anya is still a little mad at me."

"What is she mad about?"

"Sally Hyde was at the dance. She made a bit of a scene."

"You're not still chasing after her are you?" Lorna said with a frown.

"No," Declan said in disgust. "Sally made it seem like we were still together. Anya got upset then Brody blurted out we were both thinking about getting married and Bob's your uncle, I was engaged. It wasn't exactly how I was planning to ask her."

"It's water under the bridge. You're engaged now and you need to go make her happy," his mother told him. "You'll have beautiful children. You're both so lovely."

"Ma, let me get her to the alter first," Declan said shoveling down the rest of his eggs. Then hurrying to get ready to head over to the shop. His Ma was right. He did need to make Anya happy.

* * *

Chapter 8 – Sharing Confidences

Declan arrived at his grandfather's cheese shop dressed in civilian clothes that morning. He was supposed to wear his uniform fulltime but he only had one dress uniform plus one shirt to his name as the rest of his kit would not be replaced until he returned to duty and it would be ruined in no time working at the shop. His old clothes were a tad loose due to the weight he had lost from seasickness and all the times he had been through extreme weather. He found Anya already at the shop with both boys and his grandfather. He gave Anya a quick kiss on his cheek before he went to check with his grandfather to see what was on the day's schedule.

"Why don't you go home and take it easy Granddad. I know how to run things well enough," Declan said.

"There's two large orders going out. The lorries will be in here in an hour or so. I need to be here and the boys need to get to their jobs this afternoon," Mr. Clarke replied.

"Granddad it's nothing I can't handle. Ma and Tim will be over in an hour or so and Anya knows when the boys need to leave. Between us we can handle things and I know what I'm doing," Declan said. His Granddad never thought he could run things even though he had been working at the shop since he was little.

The wind went out of Mr. Clarke's sails slightly and he was a bit tired from the dance last night. He had been planning on handing the business over to Declan when Declan turned twenty and finally taking retirement. But the war came along and the demand for dairy products was higher than ever. He hadn't known how much longer he would be able to keep the business going until he had hired Anya and she had enlisted the assistance of her brother and his friend. Now there was no way he could manage without the help of the younger ones.

"Alright then. Send Gregor to get me if you need anything," Mr. Clarke said finally.

"Mr. Clarke should rest more," Anya said once the older man had gone home.

"I know. He would be almost retired now, but the war changed that," Declan said. "I don't worry so much with you here." He stroked Anya's cheek with the back of his fingers. He was about to kiss her when he spotted Gregor glaring at him from where he had just unloaded the last of the morning milk delivery. Declan sighed and took Anya by the hand.

"Gregor, I've asked your sister to marry me. Does she have your permission?" Declan inquired.

"Are you going to be a good husband and take care of her?" Gregor asked.

"I'm planning on it," Declan said. He could see the boy was trying to look out for his sister.

"Are you going to take her away?"

"No. Wherever we go we'll take you with us until you're a man and decide where you want to go yourself," Declan replied. He had known all along how attached Anya was to her brother and in that moment it hit him that they really didn't have anyone else except each other. He would be an instant father to a boy who was almost grown.

"Then you can get married," Gregor said letting out the breath he had been holding.

Declan put out his hand and shook Gregor's.

"I will be good to your sister and you too," he said.

Anya kissed her brother on the cheek then Declan before she went to open the shop for the day. Declan set about giving the boys instructions on what he wanted done to fill the orders that would be going out shortly. By half way through the day he had to admit the boys were no slackers and could put men he had worked with at sea to shame. Gregor never stopped talking about cows and milking but the other boy Gunter had a knack for cheese making and picked up everything Declan showed him about turning the curd and testing it for ripeness easily.

"Will you come for dinner tonight?" Anya asked him when there was a lull in customers.

"I'll take you out if I'm not watching my brother cry in his beer," Declan replied giving Anya a quick peck on the lips. He had been stealing small kisses from her all day much to the younger boys' disgust. Tim was sitting on a stool behind the counter tearing paper when needed and marking the weight on the packages. Every time Declan kissed Anya Tim wrinkled his nose, which made Declan laugh.

"What is cry in his beer?" Anya asked.

"He'll be upset if Fiala turns him down," Declan clarified.

"She will not," Anya replied frowning. "But I do not think he loves her."

"It's hard to say with my brother," Declan replied.

"He's the most like your father of all of you. He's easy to love," Declan's mother said. "If she loves him, he'll love her back with all his heart. I'm not worried about it in the least."

"You're easy to love," Declan whispered in Anya's ear flirtatiously when he had her in the cool room a few minutes later. His only answer was a beaming smile followed by her wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him for all she was worth.

Declan watched Anya walk back out front to join his mother a few minutes later carrying two rounds of cheese. She was no Sally Hyde not by a long shot, he thought while wearing a huge smile.

-0-

"You're not taking Fiala out on a motorbike on your own," Sybil had informed Brody when he arrived to pick her up first thing that morning.

"I've asked her to marry me. We need to talk it over and make a decision. We can't do that with twenty kids hanging around or my grandparents listening to every word we say," Brody replied evenly.

"What did you get up to last night after I expressly told you to mind your manners," Liam demanded.

"We danced, had our pictures taken and I asked her to marry me in that order," Brody replied calmly. "Everyone keeps telling me she's a nice girl who would make a good wife. I'm taking your advice and I don't have any time to waste."

"Brody she's still in school," Sybil exclaimed in dismay.

"She would be finished if it wasn't for this bloody war. She'll be seventeen in two months. I just turned twenty. She's not that much younger. You married Liam when you were seventeen and he was well past twenty," Brody replied stubbornly.

"Your just like your Da, stubborn to a fault," Liam said gritting his teeth a bit. Brody had him on the age difference. He was six and a half years older than Sybil.

"I take that as a compliment," Brody replied. Just then Fiala came down the stairs in a pair of trousers. Brody had instructed her to change into pants and something warm when she had been waiting for him wearing a skirt. "We'll be back in an hour or so and let you know what we've decided," Brody said taking Fiala by the hand and guiding her out the door before Sybil and Liam had a chance to protest.

"The worst of it is he's driving my bike," Liam grumped after they had watched Brody and Fiala roar off down the lane with her holding onto him for dear life.

"You did tell him no messing around without a marriage license and she could do a lot worse," Sybil commented elbowing her husband in the ribs a bit.

"I have a feeling we'll have an open bed in the senior girl's room by the end of the week," Liam commented.

"If they can get a judge's permission before he leaves," Sybil replied. "I wouldn't mind a ride on your motorbike before it gets too cold," she said flirtatiously running her hand along the front of her husband's shirt to get his mind of Brody.

"We could just stay home from church tomorrow," Liam said smiling at her as he closed the door.

"Mrs. Fisher is here this morning and so is Alice. Why wait?" Sybil replied.

"I thought you'd never ask," Liam said taking Sybil by the hand and heading up the stairs as quietly as they could.

-0-

Brody killed the engine once they were on a hill with a nice view of the surrounding farmland. The leaves on the trees were bright orange and the fields below looked like a patchwork quilt of green, brown and orange squares separated by grey stone walls. It was too cold to sit on the stonewall they were parked by. Brody was leaning on the seat of the motorcycle while Fiala was nervously standing close beside him.

"Don't be nervous, Fiala. We need to talk and we can't do it surrounded by people," Brody said. "Do you want to walk along the road?"

Fiala nodded her head.

"What's your answer? Will you marry me?" Brody asked.

Fiala nodded again while looking down.

"What's the matter? You don't seem very excited."

Fiala looked away from him then back. He could see the tears glistening in her eyes. She was biting her lip.

"Are you frightened?" Brody asked quietly. "I remember when I was on my own in an orphanage. I was frightened all the time. Then I came here and I wasn't frightened so much anymore."

Fiala suddenly turned and wrapped her arms around his waist and started sobbing against his chest.

"What's the matter? You can tell me," Brody coaxed holding her close while she cried.

"I have no family. My parents are gone. They won't come for me. I have no money, no dress for a wedding, nothing. You will not want me when you realize I have nothing," she said against him.

"I want you. I'll take care of you and my family will take care of you while I'm gone," Brody reassured her. "Are you sure your parents are dead?"

Fiala squeezed herself closer against him.

"I am sure. I saw…" she pressed her face into him even harder.

"Did you see them killed? I saw mine when they were lying cold in their bed. I've never told anyone else."

"No, my Papa was politik, politishun," Fiala struggled. "I can't pronounce in English. The police took Mama and Papa and my brother away and sent me on a train to a place where there were many children. All girls. We had to sort clothes," Fiala said she pulled back slightly and wiped her eyes with the hanky Brody handed her. "There were things in the pockets, keys, change, pieces of paper. Not things when people throw old clothes away. They were things you take when you go to the store or down the street. I was very frightened. The guards would sometimes take the older girls and make them do things." Fiala paused. "One day I saw Mama's coat. I knew it was hers. It had a nice fur collar and a pretty broche she always wore. I was scared. I didn't say anything. I knew that day Mama was dead and I would not see them again. A month later the guards sent ten of us to the train, then Mrs. Meier came and brought us here."

"I'm very honored you would tell me," Brody said stroking her hair and pulling her close to wrap his arms around her.

"Anya told me when I first came it was safe here and the place where I live was like a home where the people care about us," Fiala continued. "I didn't know what I would do next year when I am eighteen with no family."

"You'll have a family, Fee. It will just be mine," Brody said shortening her name to an endearment. "You can finish school then go on to college or find a job whatever you like. I work as a mechanic. I'll have a promotion soon and a raise. You'll be taken care of."

"I would like to go to school more. I am good at taking care of sick people," Fiala said snuggling herself against Brody for comfort. "I was thinking to get a job and save so I could go in a few years. I would like to be a nurse."

"My older brother got scholarships and worked and he went to school for years," Brody said. "It can be done and you won't be destitute. There's a college in York. Alice and Sybil both went there. I have a good job. I'll take care of you and our children. Do you feel better?"

Fiala nodded and smiled up at him. Brody slowly lowered his head and kissed her. It wasn't a long kiss or an overly passionate one but it felt as though the sun came out inside his heart.

"We'll get married as soon as it can be arranged," he said.

"I will be a married school girl," Fiala said laughing. "Then I will know more about kissing than the English girls in my class."

Brody laughed for the first time in days. "You already do," he said before he kissed her again with more passion. When they finally parted Fiala was clinging to him and he was breathing heavily. "I could do that all day, but we need to get a move on if we want to make things legal before I have to leave on Wednesday," he said smiling into her upturned face. "Let's go tell the folks, then I need to make some phone calls and we need to go shopping and talk to the priest."

Fiala laughed in delight at Brody's excitement. "I will be a good wife, you'll see."

"You're already a good kisser," Brody said taking her hand as they ran back to the motorbike.

"So are you," Fiala said then blushed profusely before Brody gave her a peck on the lips.

-0-

"Son, are you sure you're not rushing into something you'll regret," Kieran asked Brody when he went by the garage to tell his father he was getting married and use the phone after he had dropped Fiala off at Crawley House. He would be back to pick her up once he had made a few phone calls.

"I don't have time to waste Da. I'll be gone to God only knows where within the next week or two. Everyone keeps telling me what a nice girl she is and they're right. She is a nice girl who needs me and I need her. We're just doing things faster than normal is all."

"Brody, you're not letting the desire to get some make decisions for you are you?" Kieran asked.

"What if I am Da? I don't want a prostitute or a girl who's been with a dozen men before me. I want one who will be waiting for me when I get home. Someone I can come home to. She'll take good care of our children and be kind to my parents and grandparents. She's not lazy. She won't be a burden."

"Alright son, I can see you've made up your mind. We'll have a family get together tonight. You can bring her along. We'll celebrate your engagement and make some plans once you know more."

"Thanks, Da," Brody said giving his father a quick hug.

"You are so stupid but she is a nice girl," Honor said with a smile before she hugged her brother.


	29. Letters from Home Part III

Letters from Home – Part III

Chapter 9

Lorna was shocked Monday morning when Fiala stopped by on her way to school to drop off her things. Brody and Fiala's wedding was set for that evening as long as the judge signed the necessary papers during the day. Fiala was a ward of the court and needed permission to marry before the age of twenty-one. The priest had assured them the court was generally in favor of refuge marriages as it removed the financial burden from the government. This wasn't the first quick marriage he had seen since the beginning of the war and the waiting period for marriages had been reduced to two days.

After Fiala left for school with Walter and Tim Lorna went to look at the items Fiala had brought over in a brown paper bag. Brody had gone to Ripon to talk to the judge and Declan had taken his things to Tom and Lillian's before he went to the cheese shop. Fiala would be living with them in Quinlan's old room. Lorna opened the cupboard to see one blouse, a skirt and the dress Fiala had worn to the dance on Friday hanging in the cupboard beside Brody's uniform shirts and spare trousers. There was a hairbrush and toothbrush on the dresser. Lorna opened a drawer to see two pairs of plain under drawers, a bra, one pair of socks, a brightly colored swimsuit and a plain nightdress as well as a pack of letters all with Brody's military return address in the corner. There were no shoes or stockings or hair clips or any of the usual frippery that went with young women. Even Honor had more frilly things than this girl and Honor had always been a complete tomboy. For all the time Lorna had spent over at the orphanage she knew they were providing the best they could for the children under their care. The basics were more than children received in many orphanages but the stark reality away from that setting was disconcerting. Kieran had taken their own children shopping before they arrived from Ireland and each had arrived with two changes of clothes and a decent bundle of socks and underwear.

Lorna sat down and made a list of things for Brody to purchase for his new wife once he returned from seeing the judge, then headed over to see her mother before she went to help out at the orphanage for the day. It was the first time since she and Kieran and her parents had started scheming to introduce Declan to some decent girls that she had a twinge of doubt. The whole thing had worked out better than they had anticipated and now Brody was about to make a commitment to a girl he hardly knew. Come what may the girl obviously adored him. Lorna just hoped it was enough to base a marriage on.

-0-

"Excuse me, Mrs. Cooper," Fiala said to her teacher when she arrived in her class that morning a few minutes late. "I have moved to a new house and I will be away tomorrow and Wednesday. I will have a new name when I get back."

The other students in class were busy eaves dropping on Fiala and Mrs. Cooper's conversation. The girls sitting closest to Mrs. Cooper's desk regularly reported the goings on at the teacher's desk to the rest of the room and the school as soon as the lunch bell rang.

"Are you being adopted, Fiala?" Mrs. Cooper inquired kindly. The girl was one of her brightest students and Mrs. Cooper was hoping she would continue on to college.

"No, I will get married after school if the judge gives permission," Fiala replied.

"I beg your pardon," Mrs. Cooper replied. She had heard rumors of wartime marriages when the girls were still in school but she had never had a pupil marry nor had anyone she knew from any other school in the district unless the girl was in trouble.

"I am getting married after school. I will be back in class for the rest of the year after my new husband leaves for the army on Wednesday," Fiala repeated.

The rest of the class went silent. Everyone was staring at Fiala standing beside the teacher's desk in a plain white blouse, skirt and sweater with her hair neatly braided. There wasn't a dot of make up on her face.

"May I ask who you are marrying?" Mrs. Cooper inquired.

"Brody Branson," Fiala replied.

The room broke out into a chorus of giggles and whispers. "She is such a liar. Why would he want her? He can have any girl he wants."

"Quiet class," Mrs. Cooper said. "You will continue with your assignments until I return. Fiala may I speak to you in the hallway for a moment."

"You're not in trouble are you, Fiala?" Mrs. Cooper inquired once they were in the hallway.

"No Mrs. Cooper. I would not do those things unmarried," Fiala replied blushing.

"What about school and college? You should continue on to college. How will you do that if you are married?"

"Brody said for me to apply for scholarships and he has a job. I can get a job in summer to help pay for college," Fiala replied.

"Do you mind me asking how long you have been engaged?" Mrs. Cooper asked still in a state of shock.

"Two days. He asked on Friday but I did not say yes until Saturday," Fiala replied with a slight wrinkle in her brow. "I should have said yes on Friday."

"Where are you getting married Fiala?" Mrs. Cooper asked.

"At the Catholic Church in Ripon at five o'clock," Fiala replied.

"Would you mind if I attended?" Mrs. Cooper inquired.

"Yes, please come," Fiala said smiling at the thought of having a guest of her own.

"You may give your change of address and show a copy of your marriage license at the office to change your name when you return," Mrs. Cooper said.

"Thank you, Mrs. Cooper."

They walked back into the classroom to a scene of complete chaos. Everyone dashed back to their desks at the sight of the teacher.

"Class, Fiala has told me she will be getting married this afternoon. We will have a ten minute break so you may offer Fiala your congratulations and get a drink of water," Mrs. Cooper said. _"I know I certainly need one,"_ she added inside her head.

Fiala returned to Kieran and Lorna's after school to find a small group collected to wait for her and a pile of parcels on the kitchen table. Sybil had sent over a box containing her wedding dress and shoes for the girl to change into once they reached the church.

"You have a few wedding gifts, Fee" Brody said going to take Fiala's school books from her then giving her a kiss on the cheek.

Fiala smiled and dashed over to the table in excitement.

"I did not expect gifts," she said with her eyes shining.

"You can open them if you're quick about it," Kieran said with a smile. "We have to get going soon. The rest of the family will meet us at the church."

Fiala opened the first box from Brody's parents to find a housecoat. The next box from Anya and Declan had a fancy nightgown that made Fiala blush. The other boxes and parcels contained a set of hair clips, a make up compact and a pair of hand knit slippers. Fiala ran from person to person in the room hugging them in excitement and gratitude.

"You haven't opened the ones from me yet," Brody told her smiling at Fiala's excitement. He handed her a large box. Inside was a nice dress, matching shoes, slip and knit stockings. Silk stockings were impossible to get due to shortages. The second box contained a photo album with the picture of them from the dance on the first page.

"You are such a good husband," Fiala said wrapping her arms around his waist and hugging him tight.

"I won't be your husband if we don't get going soon," Brody replied.

When Fiala entered the church behind Anya who was her maid of honor she was surprised by the number of people in attendance. There were about twenty people standing on the bride's side of the church including Sybil and Alice, six of the children she had known since she arrived in England, all six teachers from the village school and four of her classmates with their parents. Brody's family was on the other side of the church along with one or two uniformed men and a number of people Fiala didn't recognize. Once she caught sight of Brody standing beside his brother at the front of the church waiting for her, all thought of the people watching her was gone. Her eyes never left him for the entire ceremony.

"Tom, how are we going to feed this crowd," Lillian whispered as everyone was sitting down. "I was only expecting the family."

"I'll think of something," Tom Branson whispered back. A small reception was planned for their house after the ceremony. The plan had been for a family dinner of sandwiches with two or three kinds of pickles. There wasn't any cake as even pooled among three households they hadn't been able to come up with enough sugar.

Once the ceremony was finished people came forward to congratulate Brody and Fiala. Tom stood up and announced there would be a "potluck" reception at Willowbrook House in Downton Village at seven thirty. Everyone was welcome to attend.

"Do you think that's enough?" Lillian whispered after his announcement.

"I'll telephone the housekeeper to expect more and call John. He always has a case or two of beer stashed somewhere at the cannery. It's six now. They can all nip home pick up a plate or a jar of something and come over. If there's not enough, everyone drinks a toast, we dance a little and that's it. It will have to do," Tom replied.

Lillian's fears turned out to be for nothing as people showed up with plates of fruit or vegetables and jars of preserves. Mrs. Clarke brought over an extra plate of cheese arranged with apple wedges. As well there was a small pile of gifts on top of the piano once everyone had arrived. Fiala was elated with every one of the gifts. Brody was so busy watching her he couldn't have told anyone how many people were at the house, what was said during the toasts or what was in the boxes. His mind was on the trip back to his parent's house and the lock on the bedroom door. Fiala had refused to go to a hotel for the two nights left of his leave. She had declared it a frivolous expense when they had a perfectly good bed.

"I'm surprised to see you at Fiala's wedding, Jane," Mrs. Cooper said to one of the girls from her class who was at the reception with her mother. The girl's father was away in the service.

"She told me her classmate was getting married to one of the Branson boys," the girl's mother said. "I couldn't believe it. I had to see it for myself. She is a pretty little thing."

"She's a very nice girl," Mrs. Cooper replied. She suspected the other family members that had accompanied their daughters were here out of curiosity as well.

"I got her a tea cup and saucer," Jane said smiling with excitement at being at her classmates' wedding and the opportunity to report back to the rest of the class. "I didn't know what to get for a wedding present."

"I'm sure she'll treasure it," Mrs. Cooper replied.

"I hope I have a pretty dress like that when I get married," Jane said still smiling.

It wasn't long and Brody stood up with Fiala's hand in his.

"We're going home," he said to the crowd. Fiala blushed at his statement but didn't stop smiling at her new husband.

Kieran and Lorna stayed at Tom and Lillian's until Tim was nodding off. They entered the house only to be greeted by the unmistakable sound of a bed squeaking rhythmically and some very loud high pitched moaning coming down the stairs.

"I think I'll get my things and stay on the sofa at Gran and Granddads," Honor said. She was back out the door in a flash.

"I'll just get some things for us and the boys and meet you back at Tom's," Lorna said.

"Good idea," Kieran replied steering the boys back out the door almost as soon as they entered.

"What are you doing back so quick?" Tom asked his brother when he opened the door to him not five minutes after he had left. The last of the guests had left and they were just picking up a bit before bed.

"We'll give them a bit of privacy," Kieran said. "Lorna will be here in a minute with the boys pajamas."

"No one has got a hope of getting a wink of sleep with the racket those two are making," Kieran said to Tom with a smile once the boys were out of earshot. "It's been two hours since they left."

"He's twenty. What did you expect?"

"Not anything that loud," Kieran replied with a laugh and slapping his brother on the back. "At least we know everything works. We'll just have to make sure and send Declan to a hotel with his."

"They both looked like they were going to devour those girls live," Tom commented.

"The beauty of making them wait for it," Kieran replied laughing. "You were right. Neither of them could resist when they got an emphatic "no" before they even asked."

"And we're not celebrating the wedding of Sally Hyde or Ruth Birdwell," Tom said laughing and heading for the stairs.

* * *

Chapter Ten

"What the hell happened to you, mate?" one of men in Brody's barracks asked when Brody was getting ready to head for the showers. "That must have been some leave."

"I got married," Brody said flushing a little. He had barely slept in two days. His back was covered in marks where Fiala had dug in her nails and he had three glowing hickies along his neck and collarbone. The tops of his shoulders had a few marks as well. His wife had definitely been a virgin when they wed but she had turned into a wildcat once they had got into things a bit. They had only gone out once after the wedding to set up a small bank account for her. The rest of the time had been spent under the covers with Brody trying to get Fiala to quiet down a little after the first day.

"Fiala it's obvious enough what we are up to try to be a little quieter," Brody had said.

"Touching is permitted now, you are my husband," Fiala had replied. "But I will try."

Instead of being loud she had either sunk her teeth into his shoulder or given him a hicky. The skin on his private part was hurting a little from all the attention it had received the last two days.

"What did you do? Marry the only piece of ass you've ever had?" One of the other men asked. There was a chorus of laughter and rude gestures at Brody's expense.

"It must have been some piece," another man called our coarsely.

"I married her first," Brody said laughing. "Then I got a present I wasn't expecting." He grabbed his towel and headed to the showers with a smile on his face. He had married Fiala for convenience and because she was pretty and willing or so he thought. Now he wasn't sure what he had felt when he asked her. She made him feel incredibly protective, his stomach hurt at the thought of being away from her and all he wanted to do was to be with her and hold her close every minute. As the stinging spray hit his skin and pinched the marks on his back realization hit him. He was in love and hadn't even known it.

-0-

"Will your sister come with us to buy the ring?" Anya asked Declan on Tuesday when they were closing up the cheese shop. Mr. Clarke had taken the day off again since Declan was willing to work during his leave and the older man had decided not to waste the opportunity for a bit of a vacation.

"We could go on our own, Anya," Declan coaxed.

"No, we ask your sister," Anya insisted. Declan had gotten two decent kisses out of Anya since they had gotten engaged but that was all. She was still insistent that they be chaperoned. There was no way he was going to get anywhere with her without a marriage license. That much was obvious. He was feeling increasingly frustrated especially after he had stopped by his parent's house earlier in the day to pick something up and overheard his brother and Fiala going at it. "Christ," Declan had sworn as he walked back to work. "You can hear them from the street."

"Fine. I'll go ask her now. We can stop by and talk to the priest about setting a date," Declan said. "I'll pick you up first thing in the morning." Declan's parents had decided to stay at his Uncles' as well for another night rather than listen to Brody and Fiala's undercover gymnastics.

By the time they had purchased an engagement ring and a matching set of wedding bands and talked to the priest they were back just in time to see Brody off. He was standing on the train platform with a snuffling Fiala clinging to him. Declan sighed when Anya went back to his parents with her friend after the train had pulled out. Their wedding was set for a week from now. That gave them two weeks before he had to report back. Two weeks Declan was not planning to spend working at his Granddad's shop.

"Fiala, what did you do?" Anya said with her mouth open. She was standing in the door to Fiala's room with her hands were full of the small gifts Fiala had received at the wedding reception.

"I like my new husband very much," Fiala said with a giggle as she walked into the room and picked up her housecoat to hang in the closet. The room was a complete shambles. There were towels on the floor, the sheets were twisted every which way and the curtains were knocked crooked.

Anya set the boxes on the chair in the corner and started collecting laundry. It didn't take long and they had the bed changed and the room set to right. Fiala selected a glass bowl from her things and set it on the dresser then packed the rest of the items away in the bottom drawer.

"I must be a good wife or they will send me away," Fiala said quietly while she was wrapping the few items.

"Work and clean and they will be happy," Anya replied. "The grandparents are happy I think. I take care of them."

"My husband said I should go to school. I will have to do my best at school to make him happy," Fiala replied.

"You like school so you will be happy too," Anya said. "I did not like it there very much."

"I am happy," Fiala said smiling at her. "When are you getting married?"

"Next week. Declan wants to kiss always. It is hard to say no."

"I only had to wait a few days," Fiala said. "Once you are married you can kiss as much as you like." Fiala glanced over to make sure the bedroom door was closed. "They look almost the same. Brody is very handsome. You will be happy. That part is nice too."

Anya put her hand over her mouth and giggled. "I did not think he would ask me so soon. I was frightened he would go back to one of the girls who is easy for kissing."

"You are too pretty. He will not go back," Fiala assured her. "He still looks like he will be sick when you are there."

Anya spent the rest of the week getting ready for her wedding when she wasn't working. Lillian had offered her the use of her wedding dress. It was much too big and Anya was kept busy taking it in and baking braided bread covered in small dough doves for the reception. Declan had stopped by when the bread had come out of the oven and was about to pick one of the birds off when he got his knuckles wrapped.

"That is for the wedding," Anya scolded. It was late Sunday afternoon and she was a bit cranky. She had been arguing with Gunter over his schoolwork. Gunter had taken a notion that he should quit school and work fulltime and Anya was trying to persuade him to finish. He wasn't her brother but she still looked out for him as though he were. Declan had put his hand on her bare knee that morning during church which had made her mad and Mrs. Clarke had not been feeling well all week. To top it off the car had not wanted to start when she had gone out to drive the boys to the farm as it was pouring rain. She still had to get something together for Sunday dinner and run out to pick the boys up in another forty-five minutes.

Mr. Clarke was asleep in his armchair and Declan's grandmother was nowhere to be seen.

"Come and give me a kiss," Declan coaxed trapping Anya between his arms and the counter top where she was working.

"Declan, I have work to do," Anya said not turning around to look at him.

"Work, work, work. That is all you ever talk about," Declan said quietly, then kissing the back of her neck. "Take a break and kiss me."

"One, then you leave me to work," Anya said tiredly. She turned around and put her arms around his neck.

Declan pressed her into the countertop slightly as he placed his lips on hers. Anya kissed him back but broke the kiss after a few minutes to go back to her tasks.

"Not so fast," Declan said. "We have lots of time."

"No, I have work to do," Anya said looking at the clock. The time was pushing towards when she had to leave to fetch the boys and she wanted the vegetables at least peeled before she had to leave.

"Come on, Anya. We're practically alone," Declan murmured running kisses down the side of her neck. He slid one hand around her and undid the top button of her dress.

Anya dropped the potato in her hand and the peeler in the sink and turned around in a blink to slap Declan on the face.

"I am not a girl who allows things for married people. If you want a tart you should find one," Anya said angrily. "I am going for my brother." She stomped to the door grabbed her coat and headed out to the car with a slam of the door. Declan's Granddad woke with a start.

"What's that?" Mr. Clarke asked.

"Nothing Granddad. Anya is mad at me," Declan said despondently and rubbing his cheek.

He picked up the peeler and started working on the vegetables in the sink.

"Well you had best apologize," his grandfather informed him.

"I'm starting to think I'm fighting a loosing battle," Declan replied.

"You stupid little fool. If I could put you over my knee I would," his grandfather said. "You've got a glass of fine champagne and you're treating it like a bottle of ale from the local pub. Don't think I didn't see you trying to sneak your hand under the hem of her skirt in church this morning."

"What am I supposed to do? She barely lets me touch her."

"Understand where she's coming from. She's here with two old codgers who are getting on and in truth shouldn't be working anymore. She has two teenage boys to take care of. One who's got a notion in his head to quit school and a fiancée that can't keep his hands to himself and until only last year was out and about with the town tramp."

Mr. Clarke went to the icebox, took out the five pork chops for dinner put them in a covered pan and shoved them in the oven.

"You can get those on the stove as well," Mr. Clarke said gesturing to the vegetables. "Gran is feeling poorly. Anya might appreciate a little help once in a while. I'm going to take a leak and check on your grandmother."

Declan finished off the vegetables and got them on the stove, then seasoned the pork chops so they wouldn't taste like dried leather. Maybe his grandfather was right. Anya was a fine woman who he would never have to worry about running around on him while he was away. He'd been thinking so much about how to get her into bed he'd completely forgotten to look at her side of things. The things his grandfather had said didn't make him sound like all that great a catch. He was just setting the table when the phone started to ring.

"Declan, where is Mr. Clarke?" Anya said over the phone.

"He's in the other room. Look Anya I'm sorry for earlier," Declan started.

"The car is broken and we are stuck in the mud," Anya said cutting him off.

"Where are you?"

Anya gave him a brief description of the farm she had walked to and where the car was before she signed off.

"Granddad watch the dinner on the stove," Declan called. "I'm going to go get Anya and the boys." He went to the door of his grandparent's room to see his grandmother lying on the bed in her housecoat with her husband sitting beside her patting her hand.

"I'll get up and see to it," Mrs. Clarke said thinly.

"No, I'll do it," Mr. Clarke said.

"Right, I'll be back in a bit," Declan replied. His eyes were opening a bit to the strain Anya was under. She had every right to be tired and then some.

"Ma, Da, I need the car," Declan called as he went in the door at his parents. Fiala was in the kitchen doing homework with Walter and Tim sitting across from her. He could smell the dinner cooking in the oven.

"Hello Declan, your parents went to see your uncle. They will be back soon," Fiala said.

"Let them know I took the car and I need my mother to work at Granddad's shop tomorrow," Declan said.

It was another twenty minutes before he found the broken down car with Anya and the two boys. She looked as though she was fit to be tied and the look on Gunter's face was as black as a storm cloud.

"Da will come and get the car tomorrow," Declan said. "Everyone get in my car." He put a hand on Anya's arm to stop her before she got in the front seat. "I'm sorry Anya. Things are going to change. I promise," he said. Anya didn't respond before she got in the car. He reached over and took her hand giving it a reassuring squeeze while he was driving.

The dinner was almost ready when they got back in the house. Declan's grandfather was poking around the pots on the stove. Declan took Anya's hand so she couldn't go off to another part of the house.

"Granddad, I'm going to get Ma to help me at the shop for the next two days. Gunter and Tim can come along afterschool. Anya is tired and needs a few days off," Declan said. "We'll need you to work with Ma after the wedding. We'll be away until the end of the week."

"That's fine," his grandfather responded. "I was getting tired of my vacation."

"Declan, I…" Anya said. "Thank you. I am tired."

"I'm sorry I was acting like a fool," he said quietly so only she could hear. "I'll try to be a better beau, then husband from now on." He slid a hand around her for a quick hug. He could feel the tiredness in her body as she leaned against him.

He went to find the boys who were just coming out of the washroom after getting cleaned up.

"Gregor go get the dinner on the table and make sure your sister sits down in the sitting room for a bit," Declan said. "Gunter and I need to have a chat."

Gunter spotted at the determined look on Declan's face and stuck his chin out stubbornly.

"Let's go sit in your room for a minute," Declan said. From the tone of his voice it was more an order.

"I hear you want to quit school," Declan said once they were seated.

"I want to go to work and earn money. There is lots of work," Gunter said.

"What kind of work, shoveling cow shit and slopping hogs? Exactly what kind of work do you think there will be for a young man with a German accent when this war is over." Gunter opened his mouth to protest. "Don't start with me. I know you're Austrian not German but most folks don't know the difference," Declan paused. "You think it's easy having an Irish accent in England? My folks had to send us to private school in Ripon. My older brother didn't have any friends when he was young outside of our church. You should hear a few of the choice names I get called in the Navy and I have no connection to Germany whatsoever and haven't lived in Ireland since I was four. You've got it soft here with a decent home, friends under the same roof and the chance to learn a good trade from my Granddad. He's old. He needs you to learn the business and help him and you need to get an education so you can run things one day. Anya can't do it all and I have no idea when this damn war will be over or when I'll be back."

The steam had gone out of Gunter's argument. Declan was right. People called him all sorts of names because of his accent and he was no Nazi. They didn't know the difference.

"I feel stupid being so far behind at school," Gunter said.

"So what. You have the rest of this year and next year. Work at the shop in the summers, and after school. Shit on the farm and milking. Make my grandparent's life a little easier. Granddad can pay you a little to work there. You are free loading here after all," Declan said teasing Gunter a bit. "They need you. We all do."

"Ya, Frau Clarke is too old for the store," Gunter said slipping back into German a bit when he didn't think about it.

"Alright. Deal then? You stay and go to school and work for Granddad and no more farm labor?"

Gunter nodded.

They went back to the sitting room to find Anya asleep in an armchair. Gregor had the dinner on the table and his grandfather was just helping his grandmother to the table. Declan let his grandfather know that Gunter would be working at the cheese shop from now on and not going to Merry Hill Farm to work. Mr. Clarke opened his mouth to protest.

"No Granddad you need help and Anya is worn out. Gunter is good with the process. He can work afterschool and weekends and fulltime next summer. We don't know when I'll be back. In a year and a half he'll be ready to run things as long as he stays in school and gets an education."

"You're just making all my decisions for me now?" Mr. Clarke inquired.

"I'm making a few that will benefit my future wife," Declan replied. He went over and gathered Anya into his arms from the armchair. She curled into him fast asleep.

He laid her on her bed then pulled the cover over her. Declan looked at Anya's sleeping face. When she was relaxed without the stress of her daily life her natural beauty glowed from her like a ray of light.

"You need someone to take care of you too," he whispered brushing her cheek with a kiss before he left.

* * *

Chapter Eleven - Being in Love

"That one of Brody's is a tough little thing," Kieran told Tom while they were waiting for the wedding to get underway Wednesday morning. Declan and Liam were up front while Anya and Fiala and Mrs. Clarke were fussing over the last minute touches to Anya's dress. It was a small group of mostly adult family who was gathered for the event. Kieran had closed the garage for the day and the Clarkes had closed the cheese shop as well.

"Walter and Tim do their homework and chores without a squeak since she showed up. She took over the laundry on Saturday as well. She's a lot like Quinlan. She's always got her nose in a book," Kieran said.

"Just watch she doesn't over do it," Tom said. "Declan said Anya slept almost twenty-four hours she was so exhausted Sunday night with Mrs. Clarke being sick."

"She doesn't look exhausted this morning, but she will tomorrow," Kieran said with a huge grin. All three of his older son's would be married after today. Now they just needed to sort a bloke out for Honor and things would be all set.

After the service and a stop at the photographer everyone headed back to Kieran and Lorna's for the family get together. Walter, Tim, Anya's brother and Gunter came from school on their lunch break for the celebration. The braided bread Anya had baked for the occasion was on the center of the dining room table surrounded by an assortment of deviled eggs, pickles, sandwiches and sliced fruit.

"Smile," Sybil said as she clicked a snap shot of the happy couple.

"Where are you off to for the honeymoon?" Alice inquired.

"A few days in York," Declan replied. "We'll be back Sunday. Anya doesn't want to leave her brother for too long."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do," Liam said to a chorus of the knowing adults laughter. "Then again maybe you should do a few things I would do."

"It's too late in the year to run off to the Irish Free State on a motorbike," Declan said with a grin. "But I'm sure we can invent a few of our own activities," he said suggestively looking at Anya who was pink cheeked. "I think my cousin has already tried out everything we're going to do in the next few days and then some," he whispered in her ear. Anya's light blush turned beet red.

"I will go change," she said.

Declan had borrowed one of the family cars for their honeymoon. York was only a two-hour drive away and they were at the hotel well before dusk. Declan's hands were shaking as he signed them into their hotel. He'd been with a woman before but he suspected Anya was expecting a much different experience than he had ever taken part in. Every one of Declan's physical encounters had involved a great deal of groping with the girl's skirt pushed up and a few too many bottles of beer having been consumed. He had to make this right for her, for both of them, and it was making him nervous in a way he never had been before.

"You have the only room with it's own bath," the proprietor said as he showed them to their room. It was a small family run hotel near the city center. "We don't have meals but there's a decent lunch and dinner at the pub across the way."

Once the proprietor had left, Declan felt more nervous than ever.

"Would you like to go for something to eat?" he asked. He hadn't removed his hat or jacket.

"No," Anya said. She was hanging her coat in the small closet then kicked of her shoes. She was wearing her best blue dress. She walked over to where Declan was still standing and took his naval hat off his head. "This is a very funny looking hat," she commented.

"I'll get a different one after two more promotions," Delcan said in a daze. He took off his uniform jacket and handed it to Anya as she moved to put his hat on a shelf and hang up his uniform jacket as well. His eyes never left her as he unlaced his boots and left them under a chair. Anya came back to him and turned around so he could unzip her dress. She had her nightdress in her hands.

"You won't need that right now," Declan said quietly as he took Anya's nightdress and tossed it on the chair, then slowly undid her dress, trailing kisses along her neck and shoulders then down her spine. As her dress slid away she stepped out of it gracefully. Declan threw it on the chair followed by his uniform shirt. Anya slid her arms around his neck as he pulled her close and kissed her. She kissed him back passionately. His eyes opened slightly, then closed as he enjoyed the sensation of her mouth exploring his. He ran his lips across her face then captured her mouth with his again. He was being careful not to push her too fast, this was no quick toss in the back seat of a car and they had all night.

Anya felt as though the ground was spinning from the sensation of really kissing Declan for the first time. Their previous kisses had been restrained and she had held back the desire she felt for him. The sensation of his bare chest pressed against her slipcovered body was warm and comforting and at the same time was pushing her desire to new heights. She reached down to remove her stockings once they had broken apart a bit only to have him gently knock her hands aside.

"Let me do it, love," he said guiding her to sit on the side of the bed and kneeling in front of her. He pushed up her slip slightly then rolled her stockings down one by one letting his hands play over the smooth flesh of her thighs and calves. Declan placed a trail of light kisses across Anya's thighs then worked his way up her body to her mouth as he pushed her slip up and over her head. Anya was breathing hard and whimpered with pleasure when his lips touched a particularly sensitive spot. He rose to his feet and drew her with him. They were locked in an embrace with their mouths devouring each other and their hands going wild over the exposed flesh. As Anya's bra fell away Declan smiled in passion at the site of her upturned puckered nipples. They were small and hard. The sight made his erection stiffen even more than it already was. He cupped her one breast in his hand and placed a kiss on the tip reverently.

"God, you're beautiful," he mumbled before he kissed the other one drawing her nipple into his mouth and sucking it lightly. The only answer was a groan from Anya with her arms going around his head to pull him closer. He worked his way back to her mouth with his hands pushing off the remnants of her clothes then undoing his own so they fell around his ankles before he kicked them off.

"Let me see you," he said taking her hands and holding them away from her body when she had moved to cover herself with her hands. Anya was looking down shyly. "Don't be embarrassed love. You're my wife and I love the way you look," Declan said before he took her in his arms again. As they came together Declan's hands were everywhere and nowhere at once. Their passion had built to a fevered pitch by the time they slipped between the sheets. Anya was gasping and moaning at every touch with her hands pulling at him trying to draw him closer. Her fingers were digging into his back and chest as she placed kisses on his face and eyes and down his neck. She stiffened slightly when Declan's fingers moved to stroke her intimately.

"This is part of it, love," he whispered. "It will feel good, I promise. You can touch me as well." He guided her hand to his erection. Anya ran her fingers over his hardened length lightly trying out the sensation then touched him with a firmer grasp when she gasped and arched her back from Declan's ministrations.

"Like this," he whispered as he guided her hand to move on his erection. Anya only gasped and moved her hand with a tighter grip as he touched her again. She was writhing and arching herself against him when he finally moved to enter her. It was all Declan could do to keep himself in check. He had been a long time without a woman and he had never experienced anything close to the desire he had for Anya. She gasped and threw back her head exposing her throat when he entered her. When he reached the barrier of her virginity she bit her lip and squeezed her eyes shut.

"Hush now," he crooned. "The pain will go in a minute." Anya curled her face into his neck and pulled Declan tight. After a few seconds she raised her lips to his as the passion took over again. It wasn't long and things were back to a fevered pitch. He slipped a hand between them to stroke her swollen nub while he pressed his full length inside her. Anya was moaning and tearing at his skin with her legs around his waist pulling him even closer as the contractions of her orgasm took over. Declan's answering orgasm was no less strong as he felt her go over the edge.

Afterwards they lay together in a tangle of arms and legs. Anya was enjoying the sensation of lying against him without clothes. Everything they had done felt wonderful and right but she couldn't resist the tiniest nagging doubt that still lingered that Declan would go back to the easy girls when she was not around.

"Declan, you've done that before, haven't you?" Anya asked.

"Never like that, Anya," he said. Raising her face so he could kiss her. "I wasn't a saint before I met you, but I've never experienced anything like what is between us. You're the only one for me now."

"You'll be a good husband?"

"How can you doubt it after what we just did? I was showing you how I feel about you."

"Could you show me some more?" Anya said hiding her face in embarrassment.

"I'll show you every chance I get for the rest of my life," Declan said moving so he could kiss her again. "I think I love you Anya."

"I think I love you also," Anya replied quietly then moaning as he touched her.

-0-

A week later Anya and Declan were back in Downton and staying at his grandparent's home. They had made a quick trip to a furniture dealer on Saturday and picked out a double bed to replace the single in Anya's room. Anya was so in love with Declan she was glowing. Declan had not thought she could get any more beautiful but he had been wrong. Everywhere they went heads turned at the sight of the pair of them so obviously happy and in love at the same time.

Anya had happily showed off her new heart shaped locket Declan had purchased as a memento of their honeymoon and a Brownie camera.

"Now you can send me pictures with every letter," he had told her.

They were sitting at the kitchen table having lunch and gazing into each other's eyes at his grandparent's when there was a knock at the front door. Declan came back with a telegram.

"I've been recalled. I have eight hours to report for duty. Since it's a six hour train ride, I'll just make it."

"No, I'm not ready for you to go," Anya said putting her arms around his waist and pressing herself into him.

"I know love. It can't be helped. Come and talk to me while I pack."

Declan threw the few things he had with him into his bag. Then went to sit beside Anya on the bed. He took her hand in his. The tears were already starting to roll down her cheeks.

"Anya, I want you to listen to me very carefully," he said. She put her arms around his neck and pressed her cheek against him and nodded. "I'll do everything I can to make it back to you, but it might not happen." Anya started to cry in earnest. "Hush, be quiet love. I don't have much time and you have to listen. Gunter can learn the business. He's good with cheese making. Stay on him and make sure he learns from Granddad. When he is done with school he can make the cheese and you can run things. You'll be taken care of. Don't let him join up unless he's conscripted." Declan paused. "If something happens you'll have my pension. I'll arrange to have most of my pay sent to you. Stash it away in your bank account. If we have a child use it to take care of the pair of you."

"I love you, Declan," Anya sobbed out. "So much."

"I love you too, but I have to go. Go wash your face and come with me while I say goodbye to the folks," Declan said wiping the tears from her cheek with his thumb and kissing her softly.

They were out the door in a few minutes and made the rounds to say goodbye to Declan's grandparents, sister and father. His mother was off on a shopping trip and wouldn't be back until late afternoon. Anya plastered the best smile she could muster on her face until they got to the train station. They stood staring into each other's eyes and holding each other close until the conductor blew his whistle.

"Send me some cheese now and then so I don't have to eat that canned stuff," Declan called as the train was pulling out. "Don't forget to write. I love you."

"I will not forget you for a minute, my husband. I love you," Anya called as the train pulled out. The tears were running down her cheeks unchecked. She went back to the house threw herself on the bed and sobbed until she couldn't cry anymore. Finally she got up and washed her face then set about getting a start on the dinner. _"There is always work to do,"_ she reminded herself. _"Work that will not wait no matter how sorry you feel for yourself."_

* * *

Chapter Twelve – Unexpected News

"This is the route I've planned to move this shipment of trucks to Scarborough," Sergeant Brody Branson announced to the briefing and indicating a line on a map of England. "We leave at zero six hundred. Any questions?" It was early February 1942 and he was taking six new mechanics with the convoy as training incase anything broke down on the way. They would be in Scarborough two days and do any advanced repairs need there on the existing vehicles and return with a truck that was being retired.

Brody had received a promotion and been posted to a training base in England when he returned to duty after his leave last fall. He had started at age five handing his father tools and learning about cars and trucks. When he was a teenager his older brother Quinlan had taught him welding and how to machine parts. He had more experience and knowledge of mechanics than most men twice his age and the result had been to move up quickly through the ranks.

The Americans were now in the war. The war wasn't going well with heavy naval losses and Rommel barreling across North Africa. The rules for conscription had changed last December so now even his Northern Ireland citizenship would not have kept him out of the mess. Women had to register as well once they turned eighteen. Brody was only too happy his wife was too young and would most likely be back to college in the fall, which would keep her out of things. He sighed when he though of Fee, as he called her. He hadn't had more than one day off here and there. He hadn't wanted to have her come to him as she needed to go to school and traveling the country on her own wasn't safe. If he had planned things right, he would get to see her for a short break during the convoy. He wasn't the first man who had planned things so he could stop by to see his wife and children for even ten minutes and he wouldn't be the last.

"We'll stop for a fifteen minute tea break," Brody announced to his co-driver as they approached the village of Downton in mid-afternoon. "Scarborough is three hours from here."

Brody's co-driver checked the map and nodded. The line of army trucks pulled up in front of a village school when Brody signaled a halt and killed the engine. The men had just broken out a portable stove and were heating the water for tea when the front door of the school burst open and a school girl with a heavy brown braid wrapped around her head and a piece of paper in her hand came flying out and ran towards them.

"Brody, I got a perfect score on my test," she called as she ran towards them and launched herself into the Sergeant's arms. All of the men stopped what they were doing and stared at the sight of the Sergeant locked in an embrace with a school girl and sharing a kiss that left no question as to the nature of their relationship. When they finally broke apart the girl starting talking a mile a minute while at the same time peppering the Sergeant's face with kisses.

"I got a perfect score on my science test. See," she said pushing the paper into his hand. "Mrs. Cooper talked to your parents. She wants me to go to medical school or to study for a pharmacist." Smack, smack smack as she landed another three kisses. "She said I am too smart to be a nurse." Smack, smack, smack. "I will write for a scholarship for the university to study pharmacy. I don't think I would like to be a doctor." Smack, smack, smack. "I have a job after school at the chemists here in the village. I start next week." Smack, smack, smack. "If I get the money can I go?"

"Slow down, Fee," Brody said laughing. "Come and meet the lads. You've changed your hair."

"Married ladies wear a bun but it kept falling so I did this. You don't mind?"

"No, I don't mind. Men this is my wife, Fiala," Brody said as way of introduction.

"A pleasure to meet you Mrs. Branson," one of other trainers said. The others all nodded or touched their hats and had the good grace to close their mouths.

"Fee and I will talk a few while you have your tea. Ten minutes," Brody instructed.

"Yes, Sergeant," the next ranking man replied.

"Fee, you've come out without your jacket," Brody scolded her taking his off and wrapping it around her when they were around the other side of one of the trucks and out of sight a bit.

"I saw you come and I ran out without asking," Fiala said with a slight giggle. "Will you come home again soon?"

"I'll try but I doubt I'll be able to get time," Brody said stroking the side of her face then kissing her deeply. "Get Liam to help you with any questions about school. He knows the ropes."

"You don't mind I want to go to university?" she asked.

"I don't mind," Brody said kissing her again.

"I want you to be proud of me."

"I already am," Brody replied kissing her again then taking back his jacket. "You need to go back in. I've got to get this lot moving. Write me."

"I will."

"Love me?" he questioned.

Fiala nodded happily. "You are a good husband. I have all the money you sent me in the bank," she whispered. "I will send you the socks I am making soon."

Brody's co-driver stuck his head around the truck.

"Sergeant the tire on the lead truck looks a little flat. It will take us a few to check it. Might check the rest at the same time. The lads and I will see to it," he said with a wink.

"Right-o. Carry on." Brody replied. He pulled Fiala back into his arms for a long slow kiss for the next ten minutes.

"You are so sweet," Brody said as they parted when the convoy was ready to leave. He gave her a parting quick kiss then pushed her back towards the building. Fiala stayed outside smiling and waving until they had pulled away.

"That's the one that scratched you up last fall?" Brody's co-driver asked him as they pulled away. The two men had been in North Africa for two years together and knew just about everything about each other.

"That's her," Brody said smiling at the memory. "She looks quite a bit different when she isn't at school."

"Jesus Christ man, she's just a child."

"She's three years younger than me and not such a child," Brody replied. "She was an evacuee. Really she should be at university now. She'll go in the fall."

"But you're a mechanic."

"I've got a brother who's an engineer in the War Department. I didn't go because I wasn't interested not because I couldn't," Brody said thoughtfully.

"You are one Mick who's full of surprises."

"And orders too. What is that idiot Evans doing? Call a halt. That fool is driving with smoke coming out of the engine compartment," Brody said getting back to business.

-0-

Declan reached for the packet of letters and parcel that had arrived the day before onboard the destroyer he was serving on doing convoy duty in the Atlantic. His previous post in the English Channel had been alternately boring or exhausting but was nothing compared to seventy-two hour alerts followed by periods of repetitive boredom where he was now. Things were a bit better since the Yanks had entered the war, but the constant threat of torpedo attack was ever present. This was the first mail that had made it to the ship in four months. He opened his letters from his parents and grandparents first as had become his custom saving the ones from his wife to last.

The second letter Declan opened from his mother was dated May 1942 and included pictures Tim and Walter had drawn for him. Walter's picture was of his father and Honor outside the garage. Declan sat up so fast when he unfolded Tim's picture he knocked his head on the bunk above him and fell back onto his bunk There was a picture of everyone in his family including what he assumed was Anya with a round stomach. Tim had drawn a blonde woman with a smiling face beside two grey haired people that he assumed were supposed to represent his Gran and Granddad.

Declan quickly rifled through the letters until he found Anya's with the latest postmark. A picture of her with an infant was included with the letter.

_July 15, 1942_

_My Dearest Declan:_

_I did not want you to worry and asked your family not to tell you I was expecting until after the baby was born. Our son was born on July 13. I have named him Harkin in honor of your family. Your father has told me this was his father's name and so I have chosen it. I hope you approve. We will have the christening next week. I have asked your sister and your uncle to be Godparents. The baby and I are both well and waiting for the day you can come home to us._

_Gunter is working at the shop fulltime this summer. Gregor has gone to stay at Merry Hill Farm for the summer. Your cousin Ronan is there too. Gregor will be a farmer like our father when he is grown I am sure. It is all he talks of. Fiala is working for Mr. Grimsby at the pharmacy. She says he is very disorganized and she thinks his shop would do better if it were more ordered. She will go to school in York and live there this fall. Brody was home for two days before he left for overseas in June. Honor stayed with us both nights he was here._

_Honor had an American service man for a beau for two weeks. She said that is what it is called. She met him at a dance. She got mad and put a can of oil on his head at the garage. Now he does not come anymore._

_Quinlan was home for a week in May. Now Alice is pregnant again. Sybil will also have another baby this winter. Liam is much better now. He is working at the office at the cannery most days. There are still many children at the orphanage. As soon as some leave more come._

_Your grandmother was sick again last month but now is feeling better. She says having a baby in the house is the best medicine._

_I hope you are not too upset I did not tell you about Harkin sooner. _

_All my love,_

_Anya_

_P.S. Your son's full name will be Harkin Declan Branson. I also sent you some cheese in a separate package._

Declan lay there with his head swimming. He was a father. A father for the last month and he hadn't even known it. The next time he saw his wife they were going to have a little chat about keeping secrets. "Oh here you go dear. I have a gift for you. A block of cheese and a baby in one package, I hope you don't mind," he grumbled to himself then immediately broke out into a huge grin. He had a son and the baby was named after his great grandfather. Declan grabbed his parcel with the block of cheese and headed to the galley. He was going to celebrate.

Anya had two-month-old Harkin in a pram behind the counter and to one side in the shop when Mrs. Clarke stopped by after she had picked up the mail. They had done some rearranging so there was a spot for the pram. Declan's grandmother had completely given up work after her last bout with angina this spring. Lorna was stopping by the house in the afternoons and making sure the meal was ready to go on the stove if Anya had not prepared something and put it in the icebox the night before.

Anya was seriously considering asking Mr. and Mrs. Clarke to have Mary who was now fifteen come from the orphanage to stay with them. She could share Anya's bed since Declan wasn't there and help with the cooking and housework. Mrs. Clarke's bouts were getting more and more frequent and with every bout there was more and more tasks she couldn't do.

Mrs. Clarke handed Anya the first letter she had received back from Declan since the baby had been born. Everyone had advised Anya to tell Declan as soon as she was pregnant but Anya had insisted she didn't want Declan worrying about her. From the stamp on the letter it had taken six weeks to arrive. Anya tore the letter open as soon as she had it in her hand.

_August 8, 1942_

_My Darling Anya:_

_What a surprise. I should be mad at you for not telling me, but I am so happy that I am a father I can't be. The lads I work with and I had a celebration with the block of cheese you sent the minute I read the news. Harkin's first words will be either cheese, milking or cars with our family around. I hope you are getting your rest and not overdoing things. I expect to come home to a healthy family._

_Honor must be learning from you how to keep the men in line. She has a bit of a temper and has always adored our father. If a man can't live up to him he doesn't have a chance with her._

_Life here is dull. I received all your letters from the last four months in one packet. We are either on alert, working or sleeping. I will be happy to be home again but I have no idea when that will be._

_Kiss our son for me and tell him I love him._

_All my love,_

_Declan_

Anya slid Declan's letter into the pocket of her dress and dabbed her eyes with her apron. This foolish war couldn't be over soon enough for her. All she wanted at the moment was to have her husband home and finally find out once and for all if her parents were living or dead.

Mrs. Clarke came and gave her a hug. She had been fussing over baby Harkin.

"There, there, dear. He'll be home soon enough. You don't want your boy to see you crying over his father," Mrs. Clarke clucked.

Anya nodded and smiled. She decided she would talk to Mr. and Mrs. Clarke about Mary tonight. Fiala was gone to the university in York and Anya was feeling lonely without her. Mary was always laughing. It would be good to have laughter in the house with a baby.


	30. Letters from Home Part IV

Letters from Home - Part IV

Chapter 13 – We Wish You a Merry Christmas

"I don't think you should bring Mary here," Gunter said when they were discussing the possibility of Mary coming to stay that evening at the Clarke house.

"What is your reason, Gunter?" Mr. Clarke asked. "Mother is sixty-nine now and the doctor has said she shouldn't be washing clothes or floors. There is too much work for Anya now that she has a baby even with you boys helping with the housework and I am just too old. None of you has a bit of time off. When was the last time you went fishing?"

"I think it is a bad idea," Gunter said evasively pushing the food around on his plate. He normally wolfed down his meal.

"Gunter you are almost a man now. Men say what they mean," Mr. Clarke said.

"Mary always says her mother and father will come, but I know they will not," Gunter said finally.

"Gunter you don't know for sure," Mrs. Clarke said. "They could still be alive."

"They are not. It is only silly girls who think they are," Gunter replied. He pushed back his chair from the table. "I will start the dishes."

"No. You will sit down and discuss this like an adult," Mr. Clarke insisted. Gunter was very tight lipped about his life in Austria. There was more going on here than he was saying.

"Hope is not a bad thing," Anya said.

"There is no hope, Anya," Gunter replied. "Your husband told me before he left to help Mr. Clarke with the business. I will learn a trade and have a place. He said to help take care of the grandparents. That is what I am doing. The old life is gone. Mary thinks she will go back to Warsaw and live in a big house and her Mama and Papa will be there. They won't. I know they won't."

"But how do you know?" Mrs. Clarke asked.

"I used to live in a big house. My Vater war ein Offizer in Österreich."

"In English Gunter," Anya reminded him softly. She put her hand on his on the table. Gunter curled his fingers around her hand and held it. He wasn't a boy who displayed affection often. Anya knew he was struggling.

"My father was an Austrian Officer. We lived in a big house. My parents took us sailing on weekends and I went to a boys' school in Vienna. Right before the annex he said the Nazis were killing people, innocent people, gypsies, Jews, anyone who stood in their way and he would not be part of it. One night we left for Switzerland. We had to walk in the forest. We stopped at a village to buy food. The men in black uniforms came. They took us to the side of the village and," Gunter pursed his lips together.

"They killed your parents?" Mr. Clarke guessed. Gunter nodded.

"My sister screamed and they killed her too," Gunter said. Two fat tears were rolling down his cheeks.

"I was put in a kind of prison. I saw things. I saw graves full of bodies. They would take us out to work. I worked hard and they left me alone. When the people came and brought us here I overheard the guards. Most of the children didn't speak German so they couldn't understand. The guards said all of these children's parents are dead and if they aren't they will be soon. So I know they are dead." He buried his face against Anya. Mr. and Mrs. Clarke got up to put their arms around the boy as well. When Gunter had recovered a bit Gregor hugged him briefly.

"I'm sorry you had to experience that," Mr. Clarke said then went to retake his seat. "We still haven't settled the problems we have right here, though."

"Why don't we go and talk to Alice and Sybil tomorrow," Anya said. "If Mary promises not to talk about Warsaw, would that make things easier?"

Gunter nodded.

"She is fifteen now, not such a little girl. She may have realized on her own, Gunter," Mrs. Clarke said kindly.

"Anya and I have always known," Gregor added. "The old life is gone for all of us."

The next morning Mrs. Clarke and Anya walked to the orphanage to talk to the adults after the children had gone to school.

"Mary seldom mentions her parents these days," Alice said. "I think she is realizing they are not coming for her."

"It would upset Gunter with good reason if she keeps on about it," Mrs. Clarke said. "We can only take her if she promises not to mention going back to Warsaw."

"Why? What has he said?" Sybil questioned.

Anya and Mrs. Clarke exchanged a look.

"He's told us a bit about what happened before he came to England. I'm afraid he believes Mary's parents are dead, along with his own and most of the other children here," Mrs. Clarke said.

"He's put his mind to making a life for himself," Anya said. "He is trying hard to put the old life and the memories behind him. Talking about the life before won't help anything."

"No, I can understand that," Alice said. "Why don't you both come back when school lets out and have a chat with Mary then. We can use the room and it would be a good placement for her."

"We will," Mrs. Clarke replied. "We'll be over at three thirty."

-0-

"I can come and live with you?" Mary asked excitedly.

"Perhaps dear," Mrs. Clarke said not wanting to get her hopes up. "You would have to promise not to talk about your parents or them coming for you. It would be upsetting to Gunter and he is a very important part of our household."

Mary looked out the window and watched the raindrops running down the pane for a moment.

"They are not coming. I was only pretending," she said at last.

Mrs. Clarke took the girl's hand and squeezed it.

"It won't be all fun," Mrs. Clarke said after a minute. "I'm an old lady and can't do much anymore and there is a lot of work that needs doing now that we have a great grandson in the house."

"There is always work," Mary said with a shrug then broke out into a grin. "I'm a good cook."

"I'm sure you are dear," Mrs. Clarke said. "But school comes first. You need to know there are a great deal of chores to do."

"There are less chores than here," Mary said.

"Here there are more to do them," Anya reminded her.

"And more to eat my pancakes," Mary added. Both girls laughed.

"Do you have the things for pancakes? I could make them for dinner," Mary asked.

"That would be very kind," Mrs. Clarke replied.

"I have to go back to work," Anya said. "I will see you both at home."

"I will find Alice and have her make the papers," Mary said. "Then I will go pack."

That night after homework was finished everyone sat around the kitchen table peeling apples. Mrs. Clarke was in her chair in the sitting room busy knitting a new sweater set for Mary.

"It is good you are here," Gunter told Mary. "Now we can go out on Sundays again."

"We'll go for a picnic if it isn't raining Sunday after church," Mr. Clarke said.

"Maybe we could fish," Gregor suggested smiling at the prospect.

"I think it's all time you all started calling us Gran and Granddad," Mrs. Clarke said out of the blue. "Mrs. Clarke seems silly when you all live here."

"If you like mother," Mr. Clarke agreed.

"We are done so fast now with one more," Anya said as they finished the apples. "We can prepare for pickles too then it will be done before Saturday."

"Anya you are what the English call a slave driver," Gregor said.

"Where did you hear that, Gregor?" Mr. Clarke asked with a chuckle.

"You told Lorna Anya was a slave driver last Saturday, Granddad," Gregor replied with a grin. "She is."

"You be quiet or we will not play cards when we are done," Anya said smiling at her brother. She was so relieved to have Mary here. The others had no idea.

-0-

It was the Saturday before Christmas 1942 and the cheese shop was packed with customers. Lorna and Anya were working at the counter. Tim was there making up pre-measured packets of cheese that were selling almost as fast as he got them done. Gregor, Gunter and Mr. Clarke were working in the back. Orders from shops in the area were flooding in faster then they could fill them. The rationing and shortages of three years of war were taking their toll and anyone producing finished food products was besieged with requests.

Anya looked up to take the next order when she was met with a wide smile and two blue eyes topped with a mop of brown hair.

"Declan!" she exclaimed.

"Merry Christmas, darling," he said. "Did you miss me?"

Anya was around the counter so fast and into his arms the people in the shop were taken back for a moment. Everyone applauded when the young man in a navy uniform finally released her.

"Merry Christmas, son," his mother said as she came around to kiss him on the cheek. "You're looking well."

"Where's Harkin?" Declan asked immediately.

"Home with Mary," Anya replied. They all moved back behind the counter. Declan noticed there was something different about Anya. It took him a moment to realize her bust was larger than it was before. She was still feeding his son. Declan gave her another quick kiss then headed out back to say hello to his Grandfather. Gunter was busy stirring a vat of cheese while Gregor had a bucket of hot water and borax and was scrubbing down the floors with a scrub brush on a stick. Most people didn't realize the key to successful cheese making was to keep the work area spotless. Mr. Clarke was in the office going through some papers. Declan noticed right away how tired his grandfather looked. The man had to be at least seventy-three and was still working fulltime.

"We'll visit tonight," Mr. Clarke said after their initial greeting. "Right now I'll go up front so Anya can go and introduce you to your son."

"You took in another one?" Declan questioned.

"There wasn't much choice and she's a willing little thing. Your Gran can't do the work anymore and I'm finding it harder all the time. The food shortages are getting worse. All we did last summer was put up produce or pick fruit when we weren't working. Everyone was worn out. We'll talk later. You need to go see your boy. He's a bonnie little thing."

Declan and Anya entered the back door of the cottage to be greeted by a sea of nappies, shirts, socks and drawers hanging on lines strung across the kitchen and dining area. They could hear the radio and Mary singing, "Ve vish you a merry Christmas, Ve Vish you a Merry Christmas," along with the tune that was playing. Declan ducked under the laundry to see his Gran sitting in her chair with her feet up rattling down an old sweater and Mary dancing around the room with a gurgling baby in her arms.

"Declan!" his grandmother exclaimed with a start. "You're back."

"For two weeks, Gran," he replied. "We put into Liverpool for repairs."

Mary quickly handed Anya the baby then dashed off to get Anya's camera. Mary was a bit of a shutterbug. Every time she got a few coins together she would purchase another roll of film.

Declan looked into his son's face for the first time as he took the baby from Anya. He was greeted by a pair of wide set blue eyes like his wife's and when the baby opened his mouth there were two huge dimples on his cheeks to match his own. Declan felt a surge of emotion pushing the tears to his eyes.

"Hello, Son," he said quietly.

Mary had the camera and quickly snapped off two pictures.

"I think I'll take a walk over to the shop," Mrs. Clarke said. "I could use a stretch of the legs."

"I will come and help out," Mary volunteered setting the camera on the dining room table and following Mrs. Clarke out the door.

Anya and Declan were sitting on the sofa with their son between them oblivious to the rest of the world. It was almost an hour before they looked up to notice they were alone and the radio was still gaily playing a Christmas tune.

* * *

Chapter 14 – Footsteps on the Stairs

"I think for Christmas I should have a new name," Gunter told the others on Christmas Eve while they were putting up the tree. They had a few hours before they would leave for church. Declan was keeping the small gifts he had purchased in Halifax as a surprise for Christmas Day. "My name is too German. People here hate Germans."

"What would you like your name to be?" Mr. Clarke asked him. He couldn't disagree with the boy. They had got more than one odd look from lorry drivers when they came to pick up deliveries.

"Mark Smith," Gunter replied.

"That's quite a change," Declan said exchanging a smile with Anya.

"My name is Gunter Mark Grimwald Schmidt. Mark Smith is close."

"That is quite a mouthful," Mrs. Clarke said. "You may be Mark if you choose."

"My father was Mark," Gunter added. "It sounds English."

"The next thing you'll be going to my Aunt Lillian for elocution lessons. Then you'll be a proper English boy," Declan commented.

"What is elocution?" Gregor asked.

"Speech lessons. I had them so did my brothers. Honor learned to speak here so her accent is English. I used to sound like this," Declan let his accent lapse and began heavily rolling his r's and prolonging vowels. "Then I learned how to say, I saw Susie sitting in a shoe shine shop. Where she sits she shines, and where she shines she sits and the thirty-three thieves thought that they thrilled the throne throughout Thursday."

Mary and Anya collapsed in giggles when everyone tried to repeat the tongue twisters with little success. Declan started chasing the boys around the cottage chanting tongue twisters. They collapsed in a heap on the floor of wrestling young men all laughing and poking each other.

"I'm not going to let you up till you say it," Declan laughed from where he had Gregor pinned.

"Get him Mark," Gregor called from the bottom of the pile. They were a tousled mess by the time to leave for church.

Christmas dinner that year consisted of fish. Fiala was home from university for the holidays and Declan had organized the younger people to go on a fishing trip the afternoon before. There was snow on the ground but with a big group and Fiala's fishing prowess they had managed to catch enough for the family meal fairly quickly. There was a great deal of horsing around and snowballs thrown back and forth by the time they got back and dropped all of the fish they had caught off at Tom and Lillian's. Ronan was in his last year of school and had been making noises about not continuing to university until a stern lecture from Declan on the realities of serving in a war changed his mind for him.

For Declan the day was bittersweet. Anya had stayed home with their son. Declan missed her presence even more than when he was gone to sea. Being here made him think of when they had first met. He laughed now at his resistance to being chaperoned. He couldn't have found a more loving wife or one who took better care of his grandparents.

"How is university, Fiala?" Declan asked as they walked back.

"Lonely and tiring," Fiala replied. "The other girls are not fun like Anya and Mary. They do not have husbands. I have a job at the library. It takes up my time when I am not studying."

"What makes the girls different?"

Fiala wrinkled her brow slightly.

"They only care what boys they go out with not if they will find husbands. I want my husband to be proud. They do not care. They would not want to fish."

"It's not easy when you're different," Declan said. "Liam has always had Quinlan, I had Brody with me when until we enlisted and my sister is happy with our crowd of cousins. Any word from my brother?"

"Only three letters since he left. I think he is somewhere in Europe, but he cannot say. I wish he would come home."

"The course will be done before you know it," Declan said.

"Two more years after this one seems like a long time," Fiala replied. "When Brody comes I will not be lonely anymore."

-0-

"The fish make a wonderful addition to the meal," Tom commented when the family had gathered for Christmas dinner. He, Lillian, Ronan, Aideen, Branna and Lilly had been at the orphanage earlier in the day. Things were stretched tight this year and helping come up with something for the children there had taken some creative thought. They had finally decided to purchase some packs of crayons, colored pencils and paper for the home rather than give the children individual gifts. Alice and Sybil were both pregnant and due soon. Liam had baked a tray of gingersnaps which were hung on the tree with each child receiving one that afternoon.

"We'll have a pheasant or two for New Year's Day," Lillian said. "Tom has a shoot to go to."

"If the hospital doesn't scoff the lot of them," Tom replied.

Lillian's parents were visiting from London. The country fair seemed generous in comparison to the rations they could find in the city. Here there were more than enough vegetables and preserves put up. What the meals lacked in variety was made up for with the singing and dancing that was part of every family celebration.

The two weeks shot by for Declan. He had been able to give his grandfather a bit of a break. With the two boys home from school there had been more than enough hands at the shop. Anya spent every minute she could with her husband not wanting to let him out of her sight. When Declan left on the train this time he wondered if he would see his grandparents again. What the war wasn't taking from everyone the ravages of time were.

-0-

"What are you going to do when this is over mate?" Jack Butterfield asked Brody.

"Go back and run my Da's shop with my sister, I suppose. If I make it through this mess in one piece that is." Brody replied. It was July of 1943 and the two men were stationed in Sicily. The fighting was intense. Their roles were to keep the vehicles moving, which wasn't an easy job when there were snipers around every corner and constant advances and retreats.

"What's your sister going to do? Keep the books and look pretty out front?" Jack inquired with a bit of a laugh.

"You don't know my sister," Brody replied. "She could put most of the lads in the motor pool to shame including me."

Jack let out a long whistle. "What does she look like? Is she one of those women you mistake for a man?"

"She looks like a sister and no she isn't ugly," Brody replied getting annoyed and wrapping his knuckles. He dropped the wrench he was using. He cursed a bit before he picked it back up.

"Sisters are women. What does she look like?" Jack pestered. Talking about women was one of the favorite topics of conversation in the motor pool. The banter lessened the stress from the constant threat of danger.

"Shorter than me, slight, brown hair, blue eyes. She looks a bit like me and our brother but more girly and she has one hell of a temper."

"Sounds like a fire cracker," Jack said.

"She is. Some Yank told her the mix on a carburetor she was working on was too rich. She told him it was just the opposite. When he informed her no woman would know the difference she gave him a can of fouled oil to wear for a hat," Brody said laughing. "That was the end of the Yank."

Jack laughed and shook his head. "A woman who actually knows the difference."

"Honor knows what she's about," Brody said. "She's been following my Da or my eldest brother about since she could talk. Da's almost a better mechanic than me. She can weld and do machine work as well. I'm pretty sure she was turning a wrench before she could write."

"No wonder she's running the blokes off. She sounds fearful. Never mind the mechanic part. Can she cook?"

"Better than me but not as good as Declan," Brody replied.

"You can't cook at all," Jack snorted.

"I can cook," Brody replied indignantly sliding out from under the lorry. "Heating field rations in not cooking. Besides what do I need to know how to cook for? Fee is a fabulous cook."

Jack rolled his eyes slightly. He had heard a million times how Brody's wife was the best at everything she did. The only time Jack had ever seen her she was a schoolgirl running across the lawn to see her husband.

"The next you're going to tell me she's at the top of her class at university," Jack said.

"She is at the top of her class," Brody said as they got in the truck to move it. "She's smart as a whip and pretty as can be."

"And she married you," Jack jibbed him.

"She liked my smile," Brody said with a self-satisfied grin.

-0-

"Honest to God, Fee, stop fussing," Brody said in late August 1943. "I got shot in the arse. It's just a flesh wound. You're driving me crazy." He was lying on his side in their room at his parents' house trying to read a magazine. There had been no point in staying at a hospital. The bullet was out and the wound had to heal. In eight weeks he was to report back to duty.

"Brody, you are hurt, I must take care of you," Fiala said with a slight pout.

"Taking care of me does not mean you have to be here every minute," Brody said taking her hand and urging her to sit on the side of the bed. "It's your day off. Why don't you go for a walk or go out and weed the garden?"

"Your mother weeded the garden yesterday," Fiala replied. "Anya and Mary are working and the dinner is already made."

"What would you like to do?" Brody asked stroking her arm.

"This," Fiala replied stroking his bare chest the way she always did when she wanted to be intimate.

"Fee, it hurts too much. I can't. I couldn't even sit down on the train," Brody said.

"It hurts? I could get you some ice," Fiala asked hopefully.

"Yes, fine," Brody said in exasperation. Having a young randy wife was wonderful when you felt good but when you felt like you'd been through a pepper grinder it could be a bit much. He had been lucky the bullet had lodged in the fleshy part of his derriere. The wound was painful but he would recover.

Fiala was back in a few minutes with the ice pack. She pushed him over and plunked the ice on his butt then proceeded to rub his back. Brody sighed in pleasure and relief. His wound felt a great deal better with the ice and his wife's hands did feel good on his back. He was just drifting off when there was a knock at the front door.

Brody heard the front door open and then the sound of boots on the stairs. He quickly pulled the sheet over himself as he had been lying there in the buff in the heat of the afternoon. The door opened to reveal Sergeant Jack Butterfield and Sergeant Major Arthur Martin.

"What are you two doing here?" Brody asked with a raised eyebrow. "Come to survey the Gerry's handy work?"

"We've got a few days and thought we'd come up and pay a call," Arthur Martin said. "I see you're laying about in the lap of luxury."

"You've met my wife Fiala?" Brody asked. "Fee this is Arthur and Jack. Two of the men I've been with most of my time in the service."

"You will stay for dinner," Fiala stated. "You are skinny. I will feed you."

"We don't want to impose," Jack said.

"You're here now. You'll break Fiala's heart if she doesn't have someone to feed," Brody said with a grin.

"Thank you for the invitation, Mrs. Branson. We'd love to stay," Arthur said.

"I'll go make more," Fiala said dashing down the stairs.

"Have a seat. It's too hot to be standing. What are you two really doing here?" Brody questioned.

"We had a few days. Not enough for the trip home. We thought we'd come and see the lady mechanic for ourselves," Jack said.

"She's my sister," Brody said turning red in the face. "You keep your bloody hands off her."

"We're just curious, mate," Arthur replied. "I'd like to meet her if she's a better mechanic than you."

"If either of you lays a hand on her, I'll strangle you," Brody warned.

"Come on. We were bored and came as a lark," Jack said. "Besides we wanted to know when you were getting back."

"Eight weeks," Brody replied. "I'm already going crazy lying here."

Fiala showed up in the doorway with three glasses of ale on a tray.

"Fee, these two are single and would like to meet Honor. Could you set something up?" Brody asked his wife. With two Czech sisters-in-law there was no way either of them would be getting his sister alone.

"How long are you two staying?" Brody asked.

"Till tomorrow anyway. We have four days," Arthur replied. "We spotted a pub in town to stay at."

"I will tell the Mama and Papa," Fiala said happily at the prospect of matchmaking. "I will go now." She was out of the door like a shot.

"Thank God you've given her something to think about. She was driving me crazy," Brody said.

It wasn't twenty minutes later and Fiala was back.

"You will stay here tonight. Honor will stay with the grandparents. We are going swimming and for a picnic. Everyone is coming," Fiala said happily. She went over and felt Brody's skin. "My Brody, you are too hot. It is hot in here. You will come and lay on a blanket," she said.

"Well, you heard her lads. If you want to meet my sister you had best get kitted out for swimming," Brody informed the men. They were both sitting there looking dumbfounded. "You've got an hour before everyone gets home from work."

"What the hell just happened?" Jack asked Arthur.

"I think we just met the one who really wears the pants in the family," Arthur said ruefully. "She's a little overwhelming. I was frightened to contradict her."

Arthur and Jack made their way over to the local mercantile for a set of swim trunks each. As they passed by the garage they spotted a slim woman's bottom and shapely legs dangling out from under the hood of a car. It was a hot day and the woman was wearing shorts instead of coveralls. While they were gawking they spotted who they assumed was Brody's father coming around the corner of the building and made a hasty retreat to the general store.

When they got back to the cottage. Kieran, Lorna, the boys and Honor were already home. Fiala had a large basket packed with their supper and plates. Brody was downstairs as well with a pair of swim trunks on. Arthur and Jack looked around wondering where the woman mechanic was. When they were introduced their eyes just about popped out of their heads. _"That slight shapely girl can't possibly be a mechanic,"_ Jack thought until he looked at her short nails and realized her hands were slightly calloused.

"Brody's description didn't do you justice," Jack said in surprise.

"What did he say?" Honor said with an arched eyebrow.

"Just that his sister was a better mechanic than I am," Arthur replied.

"That was nice of him to say," Honor said with a slight laugh.

"We'll need two cars for the trip out to the pond Da. It's too hot to walk," Honor said after a moment. "Anya will drive their crew out. Gran and Granddad are coming as well."

"Yes, fine. Let's get this lot loaded and head out," Kieran said. "It's too hot to think."

Arthur and Jack were both eager to engage Honor in conversation. They were surprised when another three young girls arrived and piled into the car in the front seat beside Honor.

"These are my cousins, Aideen, Branna and Lilly," Honor introduced. "You'll meet the others when we get there."

"Others?" Arthur gasped.

"My other sister-in-law and nephew are coming her brother, my grandparents and two others I guess you could call their wards. Did you pack the lawn chairs Fee?" Honor called before everyone was finished getting into the cars and heading for the swimming hole.

Brody was lying on a blanket and smirking as he watched his two buddies trying to circle Honor. Every time one of them made the slightest advance towards her they were cut off by one of his cousins or Walter or Tim monopolizing her time. As soon as one of them cast an eye towards Mary, Mark as Gunter was now called drug her out into deeper water with Gregor not far behind.

"What are you laughing about?" Kieran asked as he came to sit on the blanket and play with Harkin. Anya was busy splashing Fiala and the younger girls.

"It's funny when your not the one they're keeping at arms length," Brody replied.

"It was rather fun watching you and your brother squirm," Kieran said. "What are those two like?"

"They're right enough. Regular blokes you can count on in a pinch."

Fiala had brought along the chilled soup and salad she had planned for their evening meal. As everyone was sitting around eating, Brody noticed Mark giving the service men sideways glances every time they tried to talk to Mary.

"Brody met Fiala when she was his pen friend," Mary informed Arthur. "Anya used to write to Declan before they got married too. I had a pen friend last year at school. I only wrote once. He wrote back and asked me how big was my," she gestured to her bust. "I didn't write back."

"You could write to me if you like," Arthur volunteered.

"And me as well," Jack added.

"You don't have time, Mary," Gregor said. "You have too much work to do."

"I don't have that much work, Gregor," Mary said.

Mark was looking sulky and not saying much.

"Are you coming to the garage tomorrow?" Walter asked the men. His east end London accent was as thick as ever.

"I suppose we might. If your father doesn't mind?" Jack said.

"Stop over anytime you like," Kieran replied.

"Don't tell Honor how to do things. She gets mad," Walter said. "She chased the last man who told her he didn't want a woman to fix his tractor with a spanner."

"Just who did he think fixed it last year when he ran into a stone fence," Honor said with a sniff.

"Honor do try and be more ladylike," her mother chided.

"I am perfectly ladylike," Honor said haughtily. "I don't accept insults."

Jack was staring at Honor with a look of amazement.

"Oh Brody, I got a letter from Quinlan," Honor said. "There's an old bike in the shed out back of the garage. I'm going to fix it up. Do you want to give me a hand when you're up and about?"

"Sure I'll be up in a couple weeks once all the stiches are out," Brody said.

"You will rest," Fiala insisted.

"You'll be back at school soon and you can't stop me," Brody teased her.

"I will come home on weekends and you will rest," Fiala insisted.

"I think I'll be staying with you more often," Honor told Anya quietly. "I know how much _rest_ those two get."

Anya couldn't help but laugh.

"Are you fixing up a bicycle?" Arthur asked innocently.

"As if I would need my brother's help with a bicycle," Honor replied, putting her nose in the air.

"Our brother used to design motorcycle parts for Royal Enfield," Brody said. "He had a few prototypes still kicking around the last time I looked."

"I'd rather like to see them," Arthur said as way of apology.

"I have a few ideas of my own," Honor said recovering quickly and brightening up at the prospect of talking about building something. "There are three of them. I was thinking of using parts to make one and machining anything that's missing. There's a bunch of old parts kicking around as well."

"Does you brother still design motorcycles?" Jack asked not wanting to be left out.

"No," Brody replied. "He was designing car parts then tanks for a bit, until the factory got bombed. Now he's off with the War Department doing goodness only knows what."

"I'm going swimming. Who's coming with me," Honor said jumping to her feet and running for the water.

"You better tell the pair of them to loose those mustaches if they want to get anywhere with her," Kieran told Brody once the majority of the party was back in the water jumping around.

"I might," Brody replied laughing when Jack made to grab Honor in the water and was headed off by Branna. "This is just too fun to watch."

* * *

Chapter 15 – On Her Own Turf

The next morning the two men headed over to the garage to visit Honor at work. They were both still fascinated by such a slight, pretty girl who from all reports was a decent mechanic. Tim had offered to go with them. He was under express orders from Fiala not to leave the men alone with Honor. Walter had already gone over to the garage with Kieran. Honor was staying at her grandparents and would go to work from there. It was Friday and the village was busy in anticipation of market day on Saturday.

"You have a nice set-up here," Arthur commented to Kieran once he had shown them around. Honor was at the front desk taking in an appointment.

"It's taken years to build," Kieran replied. "One of these days I'll have had enough and one of my lot will take over."

"Mr. William's dropped off his lorry, Da," Honor commented when she came to join the group. "He needs it back for afternoon deliveries if you can."

"I better get on it," Kieran replied. "Honor can tell you anything else you want to know."

"I would awfully like to see the motorcycles you mentioned yesterday," Jack said flushing a little. It made his freckles stand out even more than they regularly did. His red hair was bleached even lighter from the hours spent outdoors in his trade and his freckles were worse than ever from two years in North Africa.

"You'll know more about motorcycles then me I'm afraid," Arthur commented as they headed out to the back shed with Tim and Walter in tow. "I'm a heavy duty mechanic. I've never done much work on light vehicles."

"How about you, Jack?" Honor inquired.

"I've tinkered a bit with motorbikes," Jack responded. "I started with lorries then worked at a motor yard working on coaches before I joined up. Your brother is the one of our lot that knows lighter vehicles best."

"Still it's interesting though," Arthur commented. He was fair-haired with a roundish face and a cupid bow mouth, otherwise he was plainer than plain. Honor thought he had a kind face despite his comment the previous day about the bicycle.

Honor unlocked the doors and stood back while Walter pushed the door open for her on the shed.

"Thank you, Walter. This one is the most complete," Honor said indicating one of the motorcycles. The other two are partials. They didn't always work on completed motorcycles."

Jack whistled. "I've never seen anything like any of them," he said as he crouched down and examined the motorcycles.

"They're all prototypes, not meant for production," Honor said. "I was going to choose one frame, strip it down and start from scratch. If I get stuck on the wiring I can always call my cousin Liam."

"Any idea which one you want to strip down?" Arthur asked.

"I was thinking this one. Once I get it stripped I can check for any cracks," Honor responded.

"We could do that for you," Arthur volunteered quickly.

"No, you're on leave. You can't spend your few days off working in a dusty shed," Honor said.

"We haven't got anything else to do," Jack replied. "It's too hot to go into the city and besides drinking away your leave wears thin after a while. It's a chance to do something different for a change."

"If you're sure," Honor said slowly.

"We'll give you hand," Arthur said smiling at her. "Neither of us knows that much about motorbikes. You'll have to tell us what you want done."

Just then the bell rung for someone wanting petrol and Walter ran off.

"Honor, Mr. Little is on the phone. He wants to talk to you about fixing his tractor," Walter called back around the corner of the building.

"I guess he's had a change of heart about women mechanics when he couldn't find anyone else to fix it," Honor said laughing. "Come on then. I'll find you some jumpers so you don't ruin your uniforms."

-0-

"What color do you want the frame painted," Jack asked Honor after lunch.

Brody had rolled his eyes when he heard his buddies were staying on with the excuse of helping Honor with the motorcycle. What those two knew about motorcycles would fit in a tin can.

"Black, I think," Honor said. "I want something that looks sharp so everyone will know the bike belongs to me and not one of my brothers. I've got to head out and see to Mr. Little's tractor this afternoon. I'm sorry I haven't got time to stay and work with you on the bike a bit more."

"That's alright, love," Jack said quickly. "I'll get the painting done for you."

"Do you mind if I come along," Arthur inquired. "It will give me a chance to see the local countryside."

"I'm coming too," Tim piped up quickly. "Can Dieter and Hans come?"

"I have to leave in five minutes, Tim. Use the telephone and see if they're available. We'll stop and pick them up on the way," Honor said dealing with Tim first. "You can come along if you like, Arthur. I'm afraid it will be a hot dusty ride in the shop lorry."

"Can't be any worse than where I've been," Arthur replied smiling. He reached in his pocket and handed Tim a handful of change. "Here get some pop for everyone but be quick about it."

"Can I Honor?" Tim asked with wide eyes.

Honor nodded her consent. Tim ran off to do his errands forgetting all about his chaperoning duties.

"How old are you, Honor?" Arthur inquired getting a bit closer now that Tim was out of the way.

"Nineteen, last spring. How about you?"

"I'm twenty-four. Jack over there is the baby of the group. He's twenty-one."

"Oh piss off, Arthur," Jack said from where he was stirring a can of paint. "You don't want an old man like him. Wouldn't you rather have a younger one like me?"

Honor didn't know what to say. Here were two men at once both paying attention to her and neither putting her down for her chosen profession or her interest in vehicles.

"I have no idea," Honor stammered. "I'll just go check my tools and hurry Tim along." She dashed over to the shop lorry and proceeded to dig through her toolbox. Kieran came over to see what she was about.

"Don't let those two rattle you," her father said. "They're young men on leave with too much time on their hands."

"I know Da. It's just neither one of them has made a rude comment about work."

"Keep Tim with you. That will put them off. Besides they both have mustaches," Kieran commented quietly.

Honor smiled at her father. He never had grown his back.

"You're right Da," she said.

Tim arrived back just then with his arms full of bottles of pop. He handed one to his father.

"Dieter and Hans are waiting for us," Tim said.

"You have nothing to worry about with that lot along," Kieran said with a wink.

Honor laughed.

"Let's get going," she said to Tim. "Go and give a soda to Jack and tell Arthur to get a move on."

"Alright," Tim said dashing off after Honor had put the rest of the pop in the back of the lorry.

Arthur couldn't believe it when they pulled up to the front of a large house and another two boys dashed out of the garden and climbed into the back of the lorry with Tim, so much for his great plan of getting Honor alone for a few minutes.

"They're Tim and Walter's best friends from when he used to live here," Honor commented as she put the lorry in gear and drove off. "The boys are all inseparable at school as well.

"What kind of place is that?" Arthur inquired.

"It's a foundling home. My cousin Sybil and my sister-in-law Alice run it."

"I wondered why all the different accents last night," Arthur replied. "That explains it."

"My parents have adopted six so far," Honor commented. "Tim and Walter are the last two. My family is spread among four houses in the village and we're related through marriage to the Earl. Well actually two Earls but Alice's father has a fit if you call him that."

"I had no idea," Arthur said swallowing.

"Don't worry none of them bite and my family is all normal, working middle class. Except my eldest brother and he's well different."

"How different?" Arthur asked ruefully.

"He has a degree in Engineering and a fancy accent and spends his days in a machine shop. He's not what you might expect."

"If I may say, you're not what I expected at all," Arthur said. "You're brother only told us you had brown hair and were a good mechanic."

"He would," Honor replied laughing. "Brody never talked of anything but cars, cheese and motorcycles. Then he meet Fiala. Now he talks about Fiala, cars, motorcycles and what a good cook she is. So what did you expect me to be like?"

"Not anyone as pretty or as nice as you," Arthur said.

"Why thank you kind Sir," Honor quipped as she pulled up in front of a farmhouse. "Here we are. I'll just go find Mr. Little. Boys stay in the truck."

Honor was surprised when they got out to the tractor. Arthur took off his jacket and rolled up the sleeves. He was willing to give her a hand but didn't try and take over or boss her about. When they had the repair done he retrieved the soda's from the back of the lorry.

"They'll get warm if we don't drink them," he said.

"Thank you for the help. It was a tad on the heavy side," Honor said.

"Anytime. You certainly know what you're about," Arthur said while leaning against the lorry.

"I think that's the nicest compliment I've heard in a long while," Honor replied.

"How did you decide to become a mechanic?" Arthur asked her.

"When I was little I used to cling to my Da something terrible. I was terrified of men with mustaches. To get anything done he would hand me a spanner and have me tighten a bolt or a screw. Pretty soon I was in there with my brothers and my Da all the time. It was a natural progression."

"Are you still terrified of men with mustaches?"

"Petrified," Honor said with a smile. "We best head back. It's getting late and I still have work to do."

That night before dinner Arthur showed up in the dining room minus his moustache.

"What's with the new look?" Jack questioned.

"My daughter doesn't care for moustaches," Lorna said with a slight smirk.

"I'll be right back," Jack said hurrying off to find his shaving kit.

Lorna, Kieran and Brody shared a smirk. Honor was in the kitchen and didn't hear the exchange.

"How's the motorbike coming?" Brody asked.

"Slow, I was a bit busy this afternoon," Honor replied.

"I could get all the painting done before we leave," Jack volunteered to Honor. "You've got a passable spray set up. I could put a nice gloss on all of the parts for you."

"That would be very kind." Honor replied.

"We're only at Sheffield you could come up next weekend," Arthur said. "We could show you around a bit, maybe go out dancing."

"I work on Saturdays," Honor replied. There was no way she was going to visit two service men on a military base on her own.

"We'll get a few days before we leave. Perhaps you might like to come and meet my family before I'm shipped off again," Arthur tried again.

"And mine," Jack added not to be outdone.

"Where are you both from?" Honor inquired.

"Bristol," Jack replied.

"I'm from Swindon. It's not far from Bristol," Arthur said.

"It would be very nice to meet your families. You can let me know dates once you know," Honor said smiling at her plate. It was great fun having two men compete over her.

"You two fancy a round of golf after dinner?" Kieran asked. "I can call my brother and see if he is around to play partners.

"Don't mind if I do," Arthur said. "Honor are you coming?"

"You wouldn't want me for a partner," Honor said. "I'm terrible at golf."

"You can come and cheer us on. A kiss for the winning team?" Jack asked.

"Here what are you two about?" Brody said scowling at his friend.

"We're just having a bit of fun," Jack said.

"It's alright Brody, if Uncle Tom is playing neither of them stand a chance," Honor said.

"Can we come and caddy?" Walter asked.

"Of course," Kieran replied ruffling his hair.

Brody was on his feet and heading for the stairs. Fiala had her arm around him.

"Where are you off to?" Jack asked him.

"My arse hurts. Where do you think?" Brody scowled.

It turned out Tom was tied up on estate business. Honor decided she would play partners with her father.

Both Jack and Arthur stood with their mouths open slightly and any hope of getting a kiss out of Honor was dashed as she teed up and neatly sent the ball down the fairway to land on the edge of the green.

"I thought you said you were terrible at golf?" Arthur asked swallowing hard.

"I am," Honor replied. "Da always beats me and Uncle Tom always beats him. I can't even beat my brothers."

Kieran stood back grinning at the young men's dilemma. It was obvious they were killing time and trying to one up each other while chasing after his daughter but if they though she would be an easy mark, they had another thought coming.

Sunday afternoon Brody was lying on the sofa in the sitting room. He didn't have much choice but to lay down as standing for too long hurt too much. Jack was off showing off the motorcycle parts he had promised to paint to Honor. Tim, Walter and Fiala had gone along as well much to Jack's disgust. Brody's parents had gone to visit the relatives, which left Arthur and Brody home alone. They had Fiala's photo album out and were going through the snap shots Brody had sent home.

"That car was a bit of fun," Brody said pointing to a snap of a bunch from the motor pool sitting on a German officer's car in North Africa.

"Didn't take much to fix it up once we got the blood off," Arthur commented. "Too bad the CO traded it to the local sheik for fresh goat meat."

"It was something to do," Brody said with a sigh. "I hope my sister isn't just something to do."

"No, I like her quite a lot," Arthur replied. "I doubt she likes me in return though. We'll see how she gets on with my parents. Then when I get back, who knows?"

"Where next?" Brody asked.

"It looks like Italy. They're on the continent now. The reports say heavy fighting with high casualties," Arthur replied seriously. "We got out of there just in time.' Arthur paused thoughtfully. "I think your sister likes Jack better."

"Don't sell yourself short. You know what he's like. He's just fascinated because he's never met anyone like her. Another pretty skirt will come along and he'll be off."

"You may be right. It won't be long and we'll be back at it and it may not matter in the end."

"You going to ask her to write?" Brody asked.

Arthur nodded. "I'll see if I can get her down to meet my folks before we leave. Stupid isn't it after just a few days?"

"I met mine and was engaged in a week and married a few days later. We don't have time to waste dancing about. I was just lucky that Gerry was a poor shot."

-0-

A month and a half later Declan was just coming off watch when he got a mail delivery. It had been one of the worst weeks he'd ever had since he joined the service. A new crewmember in the galley hadn't secured a stack of large baking pans and they had fallen when the ship rolled, breaking the man's leg. He had been lucky they hit him in the leg and not in the head. There had been alert after alert and fresh water rations were down to almost nothing. Declan hadn't washed anything but his face in days and his beard was itching enough it was driving him mad, never mind the odor of all the unwashed bodies as they worked over the heat of the stoves and ovens in the galley.

He smiled as he opened Anya's last letter. Hearing from her was like a breath of fresh air in a world that had gone insane.

_September 8, 1943_

_My Dearest Declan:_

_I am sorry this letter is not one with good news. Your grandmother passed away yesterday. Mary came in from picking vegetables and found her sitting in her chair with her hands folded. Granddad is upset but not surprised. We have all expected this for some time._

_I have good news as well. Brody is still home and recovering from his wound. Honor is staying here on weekends when Fiala is home from school, so we know he is feeling better. Two of Brody's friends came to visit. They are both sweet on Honor. The one called Arthur asked her to meet his family. The other one wants her to meet his family too. Neither one has asked for marriage yet. I think she must take a chaperone. She will take Mary. The men both asked Mary to write as pen friend but Mark is very jealous. I caught him burning the paper with the address when Mary was out._

_I am learning the books at the shop now. Mark is working fulltime since school got out last spring. Gregor has stopped work at the farm and works here now too. We have orders for everything we can make. Granddad comes a few hours everyday. He spent most of the summer in the garden or with Gran._

_Harkin is strong and happy. He is walking now. He looks like you. We will be glad when you are home._

_All My Love,_

_Anya_

Declan slowly put the letter down. He was tired. Tired of the war, of the endless days of doing the same task over and over. He was especially tired of never knowing when the end was coming. At that moment all he wanted was to go home and back to his life. He didn't know anymore why he had signed up. Was it to watch men die? Was there a point to it all? He folded his letters and put them in a small shelf on the side of his bunk. He put out the small light and closed his eyes to try and get a few hours sleep before he got up and did it all over again the next day.

* * *

Chapter 16 – On Their Own

"I shouldn't go. I should stay here with you Granddad," Mary said once she had her bag packed and was waiting for Honor to walk over to meet her for their train ride to Swindon.

"Life is for the young. You're too young to be wasting your days sitting home with me," Mr. Clarke replied. "Go and have a good time and break a few hearts yourself. I'll go over to the shop with the others. I won't be lonely."

"I will take good care of Honor," Mary said. "She will have a husband soon."

"She just might," Mr. Clarke said with a sad smile. Death had come to their doorstep but he couldn't feel too sorry for himself. Young people were dying by the droves in the war. There wasn't a week that went by someone in the village didn't receive a telegram from the war office. He couldn't begrudge the girls a bit of fun. He and his wife had over fifty years together and they had a good life. Things were coming to an end and he had to see to his grandson's family. He had made a new will and left the cheese shop to Declan. The furniture and his savings would be divided between Brody and Honor. Quinlan had inherited enough that his family would be taken care of. The others needed their family's support.

Honor and Mary walked to the train carrying a large wooden crate between them. Both of the families they were going to visit lived in large towns. They had loaded the crate the night before with fresh produce and fruit. Onions in particular had become so expensive and rare they were a special treat for people living in cities. They had selected half a dozen large ripe onions to take as gifts along with a variety of other items they had in their cases.

"I thought a chaperone was silly at first," Honor said once they were seated on the train. "Now I kind of like the idea. It certainly takes away the issue of having to watch what your about every minute."

"Where will we go first?" Mary asked.

"We'll stay with Arthur's family for two nights, then we'll go to Jack's Saturday and take the train north with them when they go back to duty Sunday night. They're both meeting us at Swindon," Honor replied.

"Which one do you like?"

"I don't know. They're both nice. I asked Brody about them and he was no help. He just said they were both decent men and that I should suit myself."

"They are both nice. Not handsome like your brothers but nice," Mary said.

"I don't know," Honor said thoughtfully. "There is something about the one I can't put my finger on. This visit will let me get to know them better. There is no harm in that."

"They gave me an address for writing letters, but I can't find it," Mary said. "I think one of the boys hid it."

"You can always get it again," Honor said with a smile. Mark had a terrible crush on Mary. Everyone knew it except Mary herself. Honor suspected he was behind the disappearing address.

Honor's parents had not been in favor of the trip at first even though Honor would be staying with the men's parents. Once Anya and Fiala had insisted Honor take a chaperone and arrangements had been made for Mary to come along everyone had been much happier with the situation. Mary had been caring for Honor's grandmother for the last year. Everyone in the family thought she needed a break.

The girl's spotted both Arthur and Jack waiting for them on the platform as the train pulled into Swindon.

"Hello again," Honor said as they girls got down from the train carrying their bags and the crate between them.

"What have you two brought along?" Jack asked.

"Welcome to Swindon, Honor, Mary," Arthur said. He gave each girl a peck on the cheek.

Jack was about to swoop in for a kiss as well when Mary handed him her bag effectively cutting him off.

"We've brought presents for both your families," Mary said.

"Well divide up the crate when we get to the house," Honor added.

They left the station with each man carrying a bag in one hand and the crate between them.

"Whatever you have in these bags is heavy. Did you bring your tools?" Arthur teased Honor.

"No, We've come on holiday and not a work holiday like you," Honor teased back.

"The motorbike was rather fun," Arthur said.

"Have you done much work on it since we left?" Jack inquired.

"Not much. Brody is up and about and been over to tinker with it a few times. I'll finish it this winter. It's harvest time. The garage is always busy at this time of year," Honor replied.

"And what about you Mary? Any plans?" Arthur inquired.

"Now that Gran is gone it will be quieter," Mary said. "There is still a lot of work. The shop is busy and Granddad is home most days."

"I was sorry to hear about your Grandmother," Arthur said. "She seemed like a nice lady although I only met her the once."

"She was sick for a long time," Honor replied. "We all miss her but it was expected."

They had been walking about fifteen minutes when they came to the door of a house in a row that looked like it had been there for at least two hundred years or more.

"Here we are," Arthur said opening the door and heading in. "Mum, they're here."

Arthur's mother came bustling out of the kitchen in an apron. She was incredibly like her son.

"This is Honor and Mary. They've brought a few things with them," Arthur said.

"Hello, Mrs. Martin, thank you for having us," Honor said.

"Welcome both of you. It's a pleasure to have you," Mrs. Martin said smiling.

"We've brought you a few things for both families," Mary said.

Both girls began digging in the cases and dividing up the items in the crate. When they were done they had a pile on the kitchen table and an equal one to take along to Jack's family.

"Oh my," Mrs. Martin said. "I haven't seen some of these things in years."

The girls had brought along a pack of dried currents for each family, a small jar of honey, a bottle of preserved cherries, a jar of strawberry jam, a wedge of cheese, fresh apples, pears, carrots, parsnips, three dried onions and to top it all off six cobs of corn for each family.

"We didn't want to be a burden," Honor said. "We live on an estate and we both live in cottages with large gardens. I'm sorry we couldn't bring anything perishable. We didn't think it would keep on the trip."

"We're living on the ration books," Mrs. Martin said. "This is a God send to us. You're both too kind."

It turned out Arthur had a father and another brother away with the service. His next oldest brother had been killed in action a year earlier. His younger sister Marjory lived with his mother, as did his grandparents. It was easier to pool rations and living under one roof saved on fuel and power.

Arthur and Jack showed the girls around Swindon and where Arthur had worked before the war for the rest of the afternoon. Mary was busy clicking pictures of them everywhere they went. Honor found herself liking Arthur more all the time. Jack was full of mischief and jokes. Arthur was quieter although still fun. When they returned to the house Arthur's sister was there as were two girls from next door.

"I thought we'd go to the cinema tonight and a church dance tomorrow at the parish hall," Arthur said. "If you'd like to go, Honor and Mary."

"Of course we would," Honor replied.

"How about you girls? Would you like to go as well?" Jack asked Arthur's sister and her two friends.

"Yes, we'll actually have someone to dance with besides my brother," Arthur's sister said smiling at Jack. The other two nodded their assent. Jack kept up his teasing demeanor throughout dinner.

"Arthur tells us you're a mechanic, Honor," Mrs. Martin inquired. "How ever did you settle on that for an occupation?"

"I have five brothers, three of which are older. If I didn't play golf, go fishing and swimming and spend time at the garage I was left out. Da needed help when the older ones went off to war, so it seemed a natural progression."

"She's a girl after my own heart," Jack said faking a swoon. Everyone laughed except Arthur.

The next afternoon the men took Honor and Mary out for a tour of the shops in the town. The girls laughed at the two men's antics and were thoroughly enjoying them selves. It was a bit late in the year for shaved ice but Jack insisted he buy one for everyone then made fun of everyone's lips as they turned different colors from the juices used to flavor them.

"I can't remember when I've had days off for a weekend," Honor commented. "I'm glad we came. I'm having a lovely time."

"You could marry me and have every weekend off for the rest of your life," Jack said.

"We could live in an ivory tower and eat nothing but ice cream and cakes," Honor quipped back with a laugh.

"You ask for marriage like this?" Mary asked with her brow wrinkled in confusion.

"I…," Jack started.

"He's only joking," Honor said cutting him off. "He just said it to be funny."

Arthur looked irritated and immediately diverted Honor's attention elsewhere.

That evening they all went to the dance with Marjory and her friends along as well. Arthur danced every other dance with Honor while Jack circulated among the girls.

"I didn't say it to be funny, you know," Jack said while he was dancing with Honor.

"You make me laugh," Honor replied. "I don't know when you're being serious." She had a pretty good idea what he wanted to say and she wanted to spare him the grief. The more time she spent with the two men the more she found herself attracted to Arthur. She liked Jack, but all she felt was friendship. "It's no wonder we're friends and get along. You're one of my brother's best friends and he and I are a great deal alike."

"So we're friends then?" Jack asked.

"Absolutely," Honor replied.

"Friends who could rescue poor Arthur from the clutches of his sister's friend? She looks like she wants to bite him," Jack said jokingly. He twirled Honor over to his friend and switched partners with a wink.

"What were you two up to?" Arthur inquired.

"Rescuing you," Honor said.

"From what?"

"From dancing with the wrong girl," Honor replied flirting a little.

"Were you dancing with the wrong boy?"

"I was dancing with a friend," Honor said. "There's nothing wrong with having friends."

"And what am I then?" Arthur asked hopefully.

"I'm not sure," Honor replied truthfully as she laid her head on his shoulder and closed her eyes. She wasn't sure at all.

Saturday morning before they left for Jack's family in Bristol Arthur asked Honor to go for a short walk with him. Mary was occupied with a new knitting stich his Granny was showing her and Jack was in the bath. It had been the first opportunity he had to get Honor alone. They walked to a park at the end of the street then sat on a bench.

"What do you miss most when you're away?" Honor asked as way of conversation.

"In Africa it was trees. In Sicily it was quiet. War is incredibly noisy," Arthur replied. "In the camps there is always someone moving about or something going on. It's never quiet. That's not what I want to talk about. Honor I wanted to ask you." He paused trying to find the right words. "If you would wait for me to come home. I know we don't each other well, but I would like to see more of you when I get back."

"We could write and get to know each other better that way," Honor suggested not wanting to commit herself to someone she barely knew even though she did like him a great deal. There were feelings there but they were too new to put a name on.

"So you won't wait?" he asked despondently.

"I didn't say that," Honor said putting her hand on his arm. "We haven't kissed or held hands or seen each other more than a few times. You don't even know my favorite color."

"What is your favorite color?"

"Yellow."

"See that was easy," Arthur said with a small smile taking her hand then leaning over to kiss her. Honor was surprised by how nice it felt to kiss him after all the dancing around the issue.

"So will you wait?" he asked again.

"I'll think about it and give you my answer before we part on Sunday," Honor said after a minute. Her thoughts were swirling around in her head and refusing to straighten themselves out.

"We had best get back before Mary comes looking for us and gets lost," Honor said with a chuckle.

"I've never been out with a girl with a chaperone before," Arthur said with a smile. She hadn't slapped his face, which was a good sign.

"It's a new experience for me as well. I don't mind it," Honor replied. She took his arm as they were walking. "Your family is very welcoming. Not everyone would be happy to welcome a female Irish mechanic into their homes."

"As soon as they recover from the shock that I asked a lady mechanic to visit I'll tell them the Irish Catholic part," Arthur replied with a smile.

"_He is rather handsome when he smiles," _Honor thought.

Jack's family was the complete opposite of Arthur's. There were five younger siblings all still living at home with everyone including Jack's mother with red hair. Where Arthur's family had been friendly but quiet, Jack's was a ball of energy. His father was away in the service and all five siblings lived at home.

"It's nice to meet some of Jack's friends," his mother said. "He tells us you're a mechanic."

"Yes, that's right," Honor replied with a smile.

"It's a good thing for a girl to have a trade," Mrs. Butterfield said. "My Rosie drives an ambulance. It doesn't hurt her one bit. How about you Mary? What do you occupy your time with?"

"I keep house and take care of the grandparents," Mary replied.

"My Gran recently passed on," Honor said. "Everyone thought Mary deserved a bit of a break after taking care of Gran for the last year."

"You're a servant?"

"No, Mr. Clarke is my guardian. I work at his shop sometimes too."

"My Grandparents adopted Mary last year," Honor supplied. "She's not exactly my Aunt she's more like another cousin."

"Oh, I see," Mrs. Butterfield replied.

Two of Jack's younger sisters accompanied Mary, Honor and the men out to show them around the neighborhood. Jack stopped to talk to almost everyone they met. It took almost an hour to get a few blocks.

"You've been missed," Arthur said after they had stopped to be introduced to a young woman of about twenty.

"Sally Parsons is dead gone on Jack but he never notices," one of Jack's younger sisters whispered to Honor and Mary. They looked back over their shoulders to see the young woman watching them walk down the street.

Mary and Honor exchanged a look.

"Arthur, are you taking us dancing tonight?" Mary asked innocently.

"How about it Jack? Are we taking the girls dancing again?" Arthur inquired.

"There's a dance at the community hall every Saturday," one of Jack's sisters said. "There are always American servicemen there."

"We'll go and show them how it's done," Jack replied.

They had been walking about another twenty minutes and visiting with more people they passed when Honor suddenly spoke up.

"I had completely forgotten I need a few things from the pharmacy," she said. "Perhaps Molly could take me."

"We'll stop on the way back," Jack said.

"There are some things a girl just doesn't want a fellow to see her purchase," Honor replied. "We'll catch up with you later."

The three girls headed off together. As soon as they were around the corner Honor and Mary came to a halt.

"I made up the pharmacy," Honor said. "We want to talk to Sally Parsons."

"Whatever for?" Molly asked wrinkling her nose.

"What Mary doesn't know about matchmaking isn't worth knowing," Honor said.

Mary nodded.

"Sally likes your brother and he needs a girlfriend," Honor replied.

"He won't look at her," Molly said. "I thought you were his girl."

"No, Arthur is my beau," Honor replied. _"Or he will be when I see him again,"_ she thought.

"Your not either?" Molly asked Mary.

"I will marry Mark one day. He is too sure of himself. I am making him jealous," Mary replied seriously.

"I thought you didn't know he liked you," Honor said with her mouth open.

"He thinks he is too smart. I am making him wait," Mary replied haughtily. "We will make Jack want Sally."

"I don't think you can, but good luck," Molly said leading them back to Sally's house.

Molly quickly told Sally what the girls wanted. Sally's eyes were huge while she listened to Molly's explanation.

"We'll get Jack to the dance at the community hall tonight," Honor said. "Get dressed up in your best dress and meet us there."

"It won't do any good. He won't dance with me," Sally said dejectedly.

"No, you won't dance with him," Mary said. "Boys want what they can't have. You will make him jealous."

"I don't see how," Sally said.

"My brother, Declan married his wife exactly one week after he returned from leave. The other one was practically foaming at the mouth to get his wife to the alter after ten days and he had just met her. It's worth a try."

"Alright," Sally finally agreed with a sigh. "I'll see you there at eight."

"Did you find what you were after?" Arthur asked as the girls rejoined them.

Honor slid her hand through his arm.

"We found exactly what we were looking for," she said smiling up at him.


	31. Letters from Home Part V

Letters from Home – Part V

Chapter 17 – The Matchmakers

The community hall was already busy when they arrived that evening. Honor spotted Sally off to the side talking to some other girls and looking apprehensive. Honor made the excuse of powdering her nose before making a quick escape to the washroom and signaling Sally to join her.

"No matter what, don't talk to Jack unless he talks to you first, and then only a few words," Honor said. "Put on a smile and keep smiling."

The girls exited the ladies room smiling and laughing.

"Hello, Sally," Jack said disgustedly expecting her to fawn all over him.

"Why hello Jack. I didn't see you there," Sally said before she drifted away towards a group of American service men.

"One minute," Honor said to Arthur as they were twirling around the dance floor during the first dance. She had a hold of Arthur's hand as she approached a group of American GI's.

"Excuse me," Honor said. "My friend just lost her brother in the war and we're trying to cheer her up. Would you mind awfully dancing with her? She could really use a happy face."

"No we don't mind," one of the men, replied. "Which one is she?"

Honor pointed Sally out to the group.

"Why you cheeky devil, what are you up to?" Arthur asked.

"Making Jack realize he already has a girlfriend," Honor replied.

"You're what?" Arthur asked in amazement.

"Matchmaking. Never mind that, I wanted to tell you the answer to the question you asked me this morning."

"That was quick. I thought you weren't sure."

"I had a revelation. My answer is yes. I'll wait for you. We can write letters and I'll see you when you're on leave and when this is all over I'll be waiting for you," Honor said.

"If you don't beat all. I thought you liked Jack."

"He's a friend. I told you yesterday," Honor replied. She peeked over Arthur's shoulder to see Sally dancing with the second American in a row and Jack looking annoyed. Mary was chatting with one of Jack's sisters. "Do me a giant favor and ask Sally Parsons to dance."

"Kiss for luck first?"

Honor raised her lips and kissed him just as the music was coming to an end.

"I'll be back," Arthur said before he headed over to ask Sally to dance.

"What's bothering you Jack? You look annoyed," Honor asked innocently.

"Nothing," Jack said as he led Honor onto the dance floor. Mary was dancing with an American, as was Jack's sister. Honor glanced over to see Sally laugh at something Arthur had said.

"Does he have to get all the girls," Jack grumbled.

"I don't know what you mean," Honor said. "Arthur is just being polite. You introduced us to Sally earlier."

Jack was glaring over Honor's shoulder. He maneuvered Honor closer until he could switch partners with Arthur.

"You're right she's dead gone on Jack," Arthur said when he had Honor back in his arms. "He's all she wanted to talk about."

"We're not finished with him yet," Honor replied. She exchanged a look with Mary who discreetly asked her partner to switch with her and Sally.

Jack's face was turning red as a beet and to the point where his freckles were blending in with his skin.

"You two are terrible," Arthur said laughing a little at his friend's discomfort. "I'm just glad you chose me and not him."

"No contest," Honor said snuggling closer and smiling. "You're a better mechanic and you're handsome when you smile."

"I am many things but handsome is not one of them," Arthur said.

"Yes, you are," Honor replied. "You're handsome when you smile and when you're helping me repair a tractor or stripping down a carburetor from an old motorcycle."

"Thank goodness you think so," Arthur said kissing her again while they were moving to the music.

When they finally came out of their haze they spotted Jack looking extremely annoyed while he was watching Sally chatting to a pair of men. Mary was off talking to another group consisting of Jack's sisters and two men.

"What's with you?" Arthur asked his friend as he and Honor returned.

"She won't talk to me," Jack replied.

"Who? That girl over there? I thought you said she was a nuisance," Arthur said feigning disinterest.

"She was before I left. I haven't seen her in three years. She's changed," Jack replied.

"Must have. The other blokes don't seem to think she's a nuisance," Arthur said getting in on the game. "She was nice enough when I danced with her."

"Oh shut up," Jack said in disgust.

Just then one of the men Mary had been talking to came over to ask Sally to dance. Honor moved onto the dance floor with Jack while Arthur partnered Mary. Jack asked Sally's partner to cut in but was firmly turned down by Sally.

"I'm awfully sorry, Jack, but we're having a lovely conversation. Another time?" Sally said easily brushing him off.

"Sally seems like a nice girl and she certainly is popular," Honor commented.

"Too popular," Jack grumbled.

"A girl has every right to dance with whomever she pleases unless she's engaged or married," Honor replied. "Even then it's up to her husband to keep her happy so she doesn't notice anyone else."

"You've settled on Arthur? He's a decent fellow."

"I have. I hope you'll wish us every happiness."

"Of course," Jack said with a tight smile. "You both deserve to be happy."

"Thank you. It's too bad you have to report back tomorrow. There is so much to do and say and so little time to do it," Honor commented.

"We need to make every minute count," Jack replied. "If you'll excuse me. I need to talk to an old friend."

Jack had Sally firmly in her arms and was giving any man who approached a dirty look. The dance was almost over when Sally was approached by one of the men she had danced with earlier. Jack tightened his hold on her possessively.

"Back off mate and get your own girl," Honor and Arthur overheard him grumble. They couldn't help but snigger. When the music finally ended after the last slow dance Jack led Sally over to their group.

"You don't mind if my sister Janet sees you home do you? I wanted to talk to Sally a bit more," Jack said.

"We will all come. Sally must have a chaperone," Mary piped up.

Jack rolled his eyes. "Sally does not need a chaperone and I certainly don't."

"Actually, I like the idea of being seen home in a courteous manor," Sally informed him. "It's rather nice."

"Are you saying I'm not courteous?" Jack said getting annoyed.

"If the booty fits, Jack," Sally said arching one eyebrow at him.

"Oh all right," Jack growled. "Would you do me the honor of allowing me to escort you home, with this lot to act as chaperones?"

"I'd be very happy to accept," Sally replied smiling.

When they got back to Sally's house, Sally said goodnight and went in without a backwards glance.

"She could have given me a kiss goodbye. I am leaving tomorrow," Jack gripped.

"Why would she do that mate? She's not your girl," Arthur pointed out.

Jack pushed his hands in his pockets and walked back to the house not saying a word. Honor and Arthur decided to stay on the step a bit while the others went in. It was only a few minutes later the door flew open and Jack came flying out. He dashed off up the street in the direction they had just come.

Mary, Molly and Janet stuck their heads out the door.

"He took Mummy's old ring out of her jewelry box," Janet said.

"He is hooked," Mary said. "He will make a good husband. She must like spots."

"What do you mean spots?" Arthur said with his arm still around Honor.

"He has spots on his face but they are all over. I don't know how you call them. I do not like spots," Mary said seriously.

Arthur started to laugh until he shook. He stood up pulling Honor with him.

"Let's go in and wait to congratulate the happy couple," he said. "Do I dare ask what you two were up to when you supposedly went to the pharmacy earlier?"

"Lady business," Mary said so quickly everyone laughed.

The following afternoon there was a crowd gathered on the platform to see them off. Sally was there with her new engagement ring winking on her finger.

"If you ever come to Yorkshire, come and visit us," Honor invited Sally.

"I can't thank you girls enough," Sally said as she kissed Honor's cheek and then Mary's.

"Be happy. He is a nice man," Honor said in her ear before they got on the train.

Jack was his old self cracking jokes and teasing everyone as they traveled. Arthur and Honor were sitting together exchanging small endearments and holding hands until the men had to disembark. Honor held him for a long while before she let him go.

"Come back safe," she whispered. Before she dropped a kiss on his cheek.

"Bye Jack. Congratulations. Keep an eye on my brother and this one for me," Honor called out the window as the train pulled away.

"Goodbye, I will write and tell you all the news," Mary called from the next window down.

The men waved and smiled as the train pulled away.

-0-

"How was the trip?" Brody asked when Honor came in the door that evening. It was late and Fiala had already taken the bus to York for class the next day.

"Jack is engaged," Honor said coyly.

"Should we be offering you congratulations?" Kieran asked apprehensively.

"That depends. If you want to offer me congratulations on my new beau or not," Honor replied with a smirk. "Arthur has asked me to wait for him and I've agreed."

"He's a good chap. You made a good choice. So whose Jack engaged to? Don't tell me it's Mary?" Brody asked.

"No, her name is Sally and he's known her for years. Mary and I were her matchmakers. It might have been the fastest proposal on record. We went to a dance at eight and they were barely speaking. By midnight they were engaged and we were drinking a toast," Honor said laughing. "We had him squirming in no time. It was priceless."

"Poor bloke but I can't say he didn't have it coming," Brody said.

"Matchmaking is a fine art," Kieran commented.

"I didn't have anyone make a match for me and I did just fine," Brody stated.

"Is that so," his mother said. "The next you'll tell me it was Declan's idea for him to get together with Anya."

"Well it was, wasn't it?" Brody asked with a look of confusion.

"Believe what you like," Kieran said with a laugh.

"I'm going to bed," Brody grumbled.

"You've settled on Arthur? What was his family like?" Lorna asked.

"Nice, normal and quiet," Honor replied. "You would like them. I'm going to bed too."

"You went to visit two young men for three days and that is all you have to say?" her mother asked.

"What else is there to say? I've met a nice man who prefers my company and shares my interests. He isn't vain, selfish or overbearing. That about covers it," Honor said. "Goodnight."

Kieran and Lorna looked at each other and shrugged.

"Our little girl who wouldn't speak has grown up," Kieran said.

"Don't worry, she still needs her Da to give her hugs once in a while," Lorna replied.

"And what about her Ma?" Kieran asked with the corners of his eyes crinkling.

"Her too," Lorna said crossing over to her husband. "I need them most of all."

* * *

Chapter 18 - Wounded

"Kieran, Tom, I'm glad you're here," Lorna said as she came rushing into the garage in early summer 1944. Her face was pale and her hands were shaking. She was holding a telegram in her hand. "Brody's been injured. He's being sent to the hospital in Haxby."

"Where's Fiala?" Kieran asked.

"She's at work," Lorna replied. With only one year left on her course Fiala had managed to secure a pharmacy assistant position at the local hospital. She spent her time between the Downton Cottage Hospital and the Convalescent home at the Abbey six days a week. She was taking every hour she could get to help pay the tuition for her final year.

"It's early in the day," Tom said checking his watch. "I'll make some calls and see what I can find out. There is no sense in alarming her until we find out more."

"See if they have an Arthur Martin as well. He's Honor's young man. They would have been together if anything happened," Kieran replied seriously. His face was ashen.

Tom nodded before he headed out the door for the quick walk back to his home. Lorna went with him. Three hours later they were back.

"I had to use some of the family connections to get more information," Tom said pushing his hand through his hair. "Brody is arriving at Haxby tomorrow. They're bringing in Arthur Martin as well. There's no word on the extent of either of the lads' injuries. All we could find out was they are in transport."

Kieran glanced over to where Honor was working out in the yard. At least it wasn't the worst and the family had been spared the news of killed or missing in action.

"When do we tell them?" Kieran said tight-lipped. At the moment he couldn't think straight. The last time Brody had been wounded the message had said minor wound. This time there was no such description.

"After work," Lorna said. "They won't be in until tomorrow sometime. There's no sense worrying everyone."

"That other boy is from down south. Why would they send him here?" Kieran questioned.

"Who knows? It could be their unit is based in the north," Tom replied. The workings of the military were a mystery to him. Tom's hands had developed a slight tremor after the hours spent on the phone trying to get information. He had to keep reminding himself that Brody was alive.

"Arthur's mother is in Swindon," Lorna said white faced. "She's already lost her husband and one son. They're working class. She'll never afford the trip and lodging in Haxby."

"Send her a cable. If she can get herself this far, she can always stay here," Kieran said. "We'll find room somehow."

It was a solemn group that night at Kieran and Lorna's. Fiala was fretting and restless with Honor pacing about. All of the relatives had been in and out for any news.

"This is getting us no where," Honor said at last. "It's still light out. I'm going to weed the garden."

"I will set the bread for tomorrow," Fiala added with a worried expression.

At one o'clock in the morning Fiala was up doing laundry with Lorna and Honor joining her as well.

"Brody," Fiala sniffled with tears running down her cheeks and dripping into the laundry tub.

"We don't know anything. He's alive," Lorna comforted patting Fiala on the back and giving her a brief hug. She could feel the tears threatening to come to her own eyes.

"You're right, Ma. They're both alive and on the way to England. I'm going to try and get some rest," Honor said after she had collected a hug from her mother as well.

By morning they had word back from Mrs. Martin. She would wait for them to find out more before she made the trip north. Walter wasn't old enough to run the garage by himself so Kieran had to stay back. He would keep the two younger boys with him for the day. Fiala had made arrangements the afternoon before to be off in order to meet her husband when he arrived. It was decided Honor would drive her mother and Fiala to Haxby in the family car. They loaded blankets, a picnic hamper, lawn chairs and some pillows into the boot incase they had to camp out in the hospital parking lot to wait for the men to arrive.

The women arrived at the hospital to a scene they knew well from the hospital in Downton. Buses to carry the wounded to and from the train were lined up in the parking lot beside a row of green ambulances. When they inquired at the desk they were told Brody had already arrived. They would be allowed ten minutes each with the patient.

"Would Arthur Martin be here as well?" Honor inquired after her mother and Fiala had gone to the ward to see Brody. They had agreed to meet back at the hospital entrance.

"Are you any relation?" the nurse at the desk inquired.

"I'm his fiancée," Honor lied. "His mother is waiting for word from me before she makes a decision whether or not to visit. She lives in Swindon."

"One moment," the nurse said. "Ward 6, bed eighteen. The nurse on duty can give you more information."

"Thank you," Honor replied. She found the ward and inquired at the desk then was pointed to a bed half way down the ward. She arrived at a bed with a partition partially around it and a nurse just leaving the enclosure.

"I'm here to see Arthur Martin," Honor said nervously.

"He's sedated and won't be awake for at least three hours," the nurse said.

"May I see him? His mother is waiting for word."

"Of course. He's lucky to have survived. Landmines are usually fatal. He was driving a lorry which shielded some of the blast."

Honor stepped closer as the nurse pushed back the curtain. Her breath caught as she surveyed the scene before her. Arthur was lying still. Both eyes were swollen and black and there was a jagged line of stiches running along his jaw. There was a space where his left leg should have been. Honor stepped forward and took his hand. Tears were rolling down her cheeks. She stayed for the allowed ten minutes then left to find the others.

Fiala and her mother joined her looking pale and serious a few minutes later.

"How is Brody?" Honor asked immediately.

"Both legs are broken," her mother said. "His left arm is in a cast as well. The nurse said he'll need another surgery on his arm. We can talk to the doctor this afternoon. You can see your brother then."

Fiala wasn't saying anything. She was looking frail and worn and not her usual self.

"He'll be alright, Fiala," Honor said to comfort her and herself at the same time.

"I don't want him to fight anymore," Fiala said starting to cry.

"He won't be fighting anymore," Lorna said pulling her into her arms. "We'll talk to the doctor and I'm sure he'll tell you Brody's war is done."

They went out to the car to have the tea they had brought along in a thermos.

"How is Arthur?" Lorna asked as they were sitting in a group by the car.

"He's lost a leg and he's cut up pretty bad. He won't be awake until later," Honor replied with the tears starting to come back to her eyes. "The nurse said his lorry hit a landmine. Honor's lips started to tremble. "He looks so frail."

"There, there," Lorna said pulling both girls into a group hug. "They're alive and that is what matters at the moment. Everything else will get sorted out in the wash. We have to be strong for them. They'll be counting on us now."

Once the tears had settled down Lorna urged the younger women to have a rest.

"I'll go back and sit with Brody for a bit, then I'll sit with Arthur. The doctor won't be around for three hours yet. I'll come and get you if there is any news."

Honor told her mother where to find Arthur then got the pillows and blankets for her and Fiala. Fiala was asleep almost as soon as her head hit the pillow in the backseat. Honor twisted about this way and that until she got comfortable. It was almost noon when Lorna returned to the car and woke the two girls.

"They're both still asleep," Lorna said as the girls roused themselves and straightened their hair and clothes. "We'll have a bite of lunch then go wait for the doctor."

They were back waiting for the doctor in the waiting are of Brody's Ward after a quick trip to the ladies room to get freshened up a bit.

"Which one of you is Mrs. Branson?" the doctor inquired.

"I am Sergeant Major Branson's wife," Fiala replied. Her hands were shaking. "This is his mother and sister."

"You're husband is going to require a skin graft on his arm Mrs. Branson. It is one of the newer techniques. Without the new advancements he would have lost his arm completely."

"Will he make a full recovery, Doctor?" Lorna inquired with a worried expression.

"His legs will heal. His arm is another matter. We can't determine the amount of nerve damage at this time. He may regain limited use but it will never be as it was. Now if you'll excuse me ladies, I have a great many patients to see to."

"Thank you for talking to us," Fiala said.

"It's something at least. He will get better," Honor commented.

"I will go see my husband now," Fiala said distractedly once the doctor had left.

"Go with her and see your brother, Honor," her mother said gently.

Honor was shocked when she saw Brody. Both legs were in casts as well as his left arm. It looked as though a sea of white bandages had taken over his body and drained him of color except for a number of ugly black bruises on his face and his hair sticking out every which way. Fiala got a washcloth and wiped the side of his cheek where it wasn't bruised and the small amount of skin at the top of his chest and neck that was sticking out of the bandages.

"You will get well. You won't leave me anymore," Fiala was crooning to him. "I will take care of you."

Honor could barely hold back the tears as she held her brother's good hand and rubbed his arm. Brody tried to say something but nothing came out. His wife wiped his lips with the cloth then wet her finger with some water rubbing it on his mouth.

"Fee, where am I?" Brody managed to croak.

"A place called Haxby," Fiala said. With her accent it came out Ixbie.

"You're in Haxby, Brody," Honor said at last collecting herself enough to speak. "Arthur is here as well."

"Where are the others?" Brody asked.

"What others?" Honor questioned.

"The others from the motorpool."

"I don't know," Honor said.

"Hurts like hell," Brody said flopping his head back and forth.

"Lie still and I'll get the nurse," Honor said.

Fiala was crooning to him and stroking a small area of skin that was clear of wounds to get him to lie still.

After Honor alerted the nurse she went out to the hall so her mother could go in. Lorna and Fiala came out after a few minutes.

"They've medicated him for the pain. He's drifting off," Lorna said.

Arthur was awake but groggy when Honor and Lorna went to see him.

"Honor, Mrs. Branson, what are you doing in Italy," he mumbled.

"You're in England, Arthur," Honor said gently. "You're in hospital in Haxby. Brody is here too."

"Where is everyone else?" he asked dazedly. His eyes were bloodshot slits.

"I don't know," Honor said reaching out to push back his hair and caress his face. "You were hurt and now you're here safe. I'll contact your mother when I get home. She's waiting to hear from me."

"Don't tell her," he rasped, then pressed his lips together and closed his eyes.

"There now, she just wants to know you're safe and going to get well. That's all we'll tell her right now," Lorna said gently.

"Where's Jack? I can't see him," Arthur said not making any sense. Lorna and Honor exchanged a worried glance.

"I don't know. I can't see him either," Honor said playing along. She had to bite her lips to keep them from trembling. Lorna handed her a cloth. Honor wiped Arthur's face and neck where there weren't any cuts. She whispered small endearments while she worked to comfort him.

Lorna held a glass with a straw so he could take a sip of water. After a minute he drifted off to sleep again.

"He seems confused," Lorna told the nurse as she came around.

"It's from shock and he had a nasty wrap on the head. The sedatives make them confused as well. In a few days it should clear up," the nurse said.

"Does he realize his leg is gone?" Honor asked.

"He might on some level. When he comes fully conscious he will realize what's happened. He may display anger, grief, despair, or be accepting. There is no way to know what will happen," the nurse replied.

"Thank you. Is there anything we should bring?" Lorna asked.

"Shaving supplies, tooth brush, comb and anything that you think might put him more at rest," the nurse replied. "Nothing too large though."

"I'll be back in a few days," Honor said. "Please tell him to expect me when he's more aware."

"He'll be here for some time. Five to six weeks before he can begin therapy and the wounds are sufficiently healed," the nurse said.

"Is there any way to find out about his friend he was asking about?" Honor inquired.

"You can check at the front desk. They will have a casualty list from his regiment. If you'll excuse me?"

"Of course," Lorna replied. "Thank you for your help."

"I feel like I'm going to be ill," Honor said when they got back into the hall.

"You have to be strong for him, for both of them," Lorna said pulling her daughter into her arms.

"He was so stong, so alive and now he's…broken," Honor said in a trembling voice. She was trying her best to keep herself together.

"My Brody will live and get well. I will take care of him. You will take care of Arthur too," Fiala said wiping her eyes with her hanky.

"When you come back in a few days Arthur will be more aware," Lorna comforted.

"The side effect of the sedatives and pain medication is grogginess and confusion," Fiala recited from rote. "It clears in forty-eight hours after the last dosage."

"You sound like a text book," Honor said with a trembling half smile.

"Thank you. I study hard," Fiala replied.

"They stopped at the desk to ask if they had a casualty list for Brody's regiment. Jack Butterfield wasn't on it.

"It only means he was alive when this group was transported," the nurse said.

"Thank you, for your time," Lorna replied.

"I'll drive home," Lorna said. "Neither of you are in any shape." Honor could only nod. She was exhausted. Fiala slept most of the way back to Downton on a pile of pillows in the back seat. Honor wrapped herself in a blanket and stared sightlessly out the window as her mother drove.

"I'm going to telephone Arthur's mother," Honor said. "They'll be waiting by the phone."

"Of course, dear. I'll get dinner," her mother replied.

Honor walked over to the garage to use the phone and update her father on Brody and Arthur. One look at his daughter and Kieran pulled her into his arms.

"It was awful, Da. They both look so helpless," Honor said with her head on her father's shoulder and the hot tears running down her cheeks again.

"They've survived and they're out of it. We have to be thankful for that," Kieran said giving his daughter an extra squeeze.

"You're right," Honor said straightening up. "They will both get well and come home. I'm going to call Mrs. Martin."

Kieran could over hear Honor's side of the conversation while she was on the phone.

"I don't know the extent of Arthur's injuries," Honor said. "The doctor wasn't available. From what I saw he did have a great many stitches. He was groggy and confused but the nurse said it was from the drugs they had given him…Yes, he is going to survive. The recovery will take some time. The nurse said at least six weeks in this hospital…I don't know what they plan next…I'll be going back in few days. I'll keep you informed…I think you should come in a few days once he is more awake and aware of his surroundings… You can stay here with us. We'll be traveling back and forth every few days and there is a bus… Yes, I'll get in touch after my next visit…You too. Take care."

"I couldn't tell her that her son's leg was blown off by a land mine," Honor said to father after she had hung up. "I didn't think it was my place to tell her."

"She'll have to hear it sometime," her father said.

"Mrs. Martin already lost her husband and one son. I think she needed to hear this one is going to be alright," Honor replied. They closed up the garage and walked slowly back home. Kieran had one arm around Honor, Walter was walking with his arm around Kieran's waist and Tim had Honor by the hand. Honor glanced at her father as they walked. The lines in his face were a little deeper than they had been yesterday and his hair was definitely whiter. She felt as though the weight of the world was pressing on her. There was no hiding from the war anymore or pretending it wouldn't come to the doorstep. It was here as sure as a German soldier had crossed their threshold and it was going to be a long time before it left.

* * *

Chapter 19 – On Leave

"Just look who I found on the train," Declan said to Anya as he stepped down. His older brother Quinlan was right behind him. Declan wrapped Anya in a hug and gave her a prolonged kiss.

"Hello, Quinlan. No one said you were coming," Anya said.

"That's because they didn't know," Quinlan replied giving Anya a peck on the cheek. "How is Brody? I told Declan he was in hospital."

"The same," Anya replied. Declan had sent a cable to say he was coming home but it had only been two weeks since Brody's arrival and Anya had not written the news of Brody's injuries yet. ""He has had one more surgery on his arm but there are no results yet. Both legs are in casts. Fiala goes every other day after work with Honor or your parents. I haven't gone. They don't allow too many visitors."

"How are Harkin and everyone else?" Declan asked.

"Harkin is fine, happy," Anya said her face was serious. "Granddad is not fine. Quinlan you should come and see him."

"I will after I stop by home and speak to Alice," Quinlan replied.

"No, I think you should come now," Anya insisted.

"Why what's going on?" Quinlan asked quickly.

"Granddad has been feeling poorly all winter. He took a bad spell when Brody was injured. The doctor says he won't recover," the tears were forming in the corner of Anya's eyes.

"Happy bloody homecoming," Declan said with a heavy sigh.

"All is well," Anya replied sadly. "Brody will get well and not fight anymore and Granddad is not alone."

"Oh sweetheart," Declan said pulling his wife into his arms in the middle of the lane. "I'm sorry you've been baring this alone."

"I'll see you two at your place," Quinlan said as he strode on ahead.

"I am not alone," Anya said drying her eyes with a hanky after a moment and continuing towards home. "Your mother is there and I have Gregor, Mary and Mark. Mark makes the cheese now and the others all work and help with the house and garden. We are taken care of."

"Still I should be here, not off fighting this bloody war," Declan said.

"You are helping stop the people who took my parents," Anya replied quietly. "There is nothing else you can do."

They got home to find Declan's mother working around the house wearing an apron over her dress. Mr. Clarke was propped up in his armchair with his feet on a hassock. His breathing was labored and his lips had a blue tint. Quinlan was sitting close to his grandfather talking to him.

"Welcome home, Declan," his mother said. "This is a treat having you and Quinlan here at the same time. Harkin is down for a nap."

"How is Granddad, Ma?" Declan asked. He could see his mother visibly drooping under all the strain.

"The doctor came by earlier. He says two days at the most, probably less," Lorna replied quietly. "How did you get leave?"

"We were tied up outboard when we were grazed by a troop transport. No one was hurt except for a lot of twisted metal. We can't put out again until she's repaired. They gave everyone not needed eight days leave."

Quinlan got up and came over to them.

"I'll stop by and see Da and Honor. I'll stop by again this evening," he said.

Anya left as well to go back to the shop.

"How are things really, Ma?" Declan asked once everything was quiet.

"We're all worn out. We can't close the garage or the cheese shop even for a week or two. The demand is too great especially for the milk products. Mark is eighteen now but he's been declared exempt as he's working in what is considered an essential role since food is in such short supply and he still has nightmares from what he experienced in Austria. Da is over sixty and should be slowing down but he's not. Honor is worried about her young man. He's lost his leg. His mother was here for a week but she's gone back now and now this."

"Are Granddad's affairs in order?" Declan inquired. His wife's livelihood and his family depended on it.

Lorna nodded. "That side of things is taken care of. Don't worry Anya and Mark have the business well in hand. Your family won't starve or do without."

"Good," Declan said with a sigh.

"We aren't facing any different problems than anyone else," Lorna said. "Fuel rations are our biggest issue at the moment. Mrs. Martin was here and it takes two buses to get to the hospital. We used more petrol than we should have going back and forth. Honor takes Fiala most times now on her motorbike. It's too far to go by bicycle."

Harkin woke up and immediately made strange with his father. Declan sighed. He seemed to be sighing a lot today. He hadn't seen his son in almost a year and he was a stranger to him. He finally managed to coax his son enough to let him pick him up.

"We'll go visit Aunty Honor at the garage. Won't we?" Declan coaxed Harkin. "We'll see Granddad and have a sweetie at the shop." Declan wasn't above pure bribery to get his son to cooperate.

"Declan, he's too little for sweets," his mother scolded.

"A gumdrop won't hurt him and I want to spend a bit of time with my son," Declan replied. In his head Declan was thinking a house with a dying man was no place for a small child but it couldn't be helped. One way or another they were all stuck with the cards the war was dealing them.

Mr. Clarke passed away peacefully through the night. In the morning everyone was so distraught, Declan declared he and Mark would go and take the morning milk delivery and do the bare essentials but the shop would remain closed for the day. He had read his grandfather's Will the night before and he was now the new owner.

"I don't want any of you to worry," Declan said when they had gathered around the table that morning. Everyone was grieving but there was also a fear of what would happen to them now that their guardian was gone. "I own the shop now. The cottage is leased and the shop makes more than enough when the time comes to renew. None of you are going anywhere." Declan reached to take Anya's hand. "Mark and Gregor I'm giving you the rest of the week off. You boys are worn out. Mary you can have next week off. I'm sorry you can't all go at once but I doubt we'd manage with just myself and Anya. I'll take over for the rest of the week for Mark and Gregor. It's summertime. Go fishing, swim, lay under a tree, read a book, I don't care what you do but just relax. Anya you need to promise to take a rest soon."

"Declan you can't work your entire leave," Anya said worriedly.

"I'll just work the four days then as needed after that. The shop is closed Sunday and Monday. That will give the boys six days vacation and I'll have a few days as well," Declan said. "I'll go to the lawyer this afternoon. I'll look into becoming Mary and Mark's guardian as well. I can't promise anything since I'm a citizen of Northern Ireland. Legally you need a guardian until you're twenty-one."

Mary came around the table to hug Declan. Then she hugged Anya. Her face was solemn and tear stained but Declan could see the relief in her face. Mark shook his hand and didn't resist when Declan gave him a quick hug and pat on the back. The boy was technically a man but he was still too young for the responsibility that was being thrust upon him.

-0-

"She's a beaut, Honor," Quinlan said that evening as Honor pulled up on her motorbike to meet Quinlan, Declan and Fiala at her grandfather's cottage, which was now Declan and Anya's place. She had agreed to let Declan buy her out of her share of the furnishings. She would receive half of her grandfather's saving account as her inheritance. They were a solemn faced lot on their way to see Brody at the hospital. Quinlan would drive himself and Declan on Liam's motorcycle. They didn't have enough petrol to take a car.

"I had a bit of help from Liam with the wiring. Brody and his army buddies tinkered with her a bit too," Honor said. "I worked with what I had and made a few modifications. It serves the purpose."

"It is one fine looking machine," Declan commented. "Although it is a bit girly with that shiny paint job."

"It's a girl's bike," Honor declared. "Quinlan would you mind coming to see Arthur with me? He's a bit down. He thinks he can't do anything anymore despite the fact that I keep telling him my older brother and cousin can design anything he needs automotive wise around a missing limb. He might believe it coming from you."

"Of course. I want to meet the man who's captured my little sister's attention," Quinlan replied.

"I wouldn't mind meeting him as well," Declan said. "We can go and see him once we've had a chat with Brody and told him the news."

Declan and Quinlan went in to see Brody while the girls waited in the hall once they reached the hospital.

"It seems almost surreal," Brody commented. "I was surrounded by death and now the news of someone dying of old age and natural causes makes me sadder than the others put together."

"He was seventy-five and had a good run. We'll all miss him but it was his time," Quinlan said. "Granddad left you half his bank account and furnishings. Declan got the shop."

"I'm buying Honor's half of the furniture. I hope you'll sell me yours as well," Declan said.

"Yes, put it in the papers and I'll sign them. At least I'll have a few pounds together when I get out of here," Brody said dejectedly.

"You know neither of you has to worry," Quinlan said. "I've got more than enough."

"We don't want to sponge," Declan said.

"Be that as it may, I won't see a member of my family on the street or strapped for money when I have more than my share," Quinlan replied.

"We'll let you know if we need anything," Declan said. Brody nodded.

"I get the casts off in three weeks," Brody said. "Fee has talked the doctor into sending me to the York University Hospital for my therapy. She's back to school in two weeks."

"They'll have a shock," Declan replied.

"She'll probably have the entire ward restructured before they know it," Brody said with a chuckle. "At least this time she'll have her studies to occupy her instead of clucking at me every minute."

"Any idea when you'll be out of hospital for good?" Quinlan asked.

"Christmas maybe if all goes well and is healing properly. I thought I'd give Honor and Da a hand at the garage. Of course he won't think I can do anything right," Brody said scornfully.

"We're a family of mechanics except the Cheese King here. Da still thinks we're all little kids he has to keep an eye on," Quinlan replied.

"I can turn a wrench when need be," Declan said. "Though I would rather leave it to you lot."

"We'd best go see Honor's chap before they kick us out," Quinlan said.

"Say hello to Arthur for me," Brody said in parting.

Fiala went in to spend the rest of their visiting time with Brody. Honor went in for a few minutes to reassure her brother everything was well at home. She was soon back in the hall and taking her brothers upstairs to meet her beau.

"Arthur, this is my older brother Quinlan," Honor introduced after she had given Arthur a peck on the cheek. He set the book he had been reading to the side.

"Hello, nice to meet you," Quinlan said. "Honor tells me you're a mechanic."

"I've heard a lot about you," Arthur replied. "I was a mechanic." He corrected.

"Is there some reason you can't be once you're up and around?" Quinlan asked.

"I don't see how," Arthur replied. It was obvious he was down on himself from the unhappy expression on his face.

"There's a way to do anything," Quinlan said. "Sometimes it just takes a bit of ingenuity."

"Quinlan is an engineer with the War Department," Honor said hopefully. "He can build anything."

"I'm a mechanic and welder as well as an engineer. I can't build anything, Honor but I have been known to come up with a few ideas," Quinlan replied smiling. "Are you interested in motorcycles?"

"I tinkered a bit with Honor's before, you know," Arthur gestured to his non-existent leg. "I won't be riding one now."

"Why not?" Quinlan inquired. "You get out of here and let me know. I'll design something you can drive once you get your balance. It's just a matter of moving one brake control. That is easy enough. You could probably build it yourself."

"You're optimistic," Arthur said warily.

"No, I'm realistic. People told me I would never amount to anything and treated me like garbage when I was young. My parents and extended family believed in me. It took me a bit to believe in myself. Once I did I found out there was little to stand in my way," Quinlan said seriously. "I'll tell you about it another time. It's not a pretty story. But that's enough about me, my younger brother is here as well. He's not a mechanic like the rest of us but he thinks he is." Quinlan joked. "I best get out of here and let him come in."

Quinlan headed out of the ward to send Declan along.

"He really can build anything," Honor said conspiratorally to Arthur once she thought Quinlan was out of earshot.

"I heard that," Quinlan said not turning around.

"He seems like a decent bloke," Arthur said.

"He's a dear and he can build anything. One minute you'll have a pile of old car parts headed for the scrap yard and the next he'll have some gadget. It's actually a little unnerving until you get used to it. He's so smart the War Department snapped him up. We don't know when he's coming for a visit. He shows up and leaves without a word. Whatever he does is very hush, hush," Honor whispered. She looked at Arthur thoughtfully. "You need a haircut and to trim your beard."

"Honor, what difference will it make?" Arthur replied.

"It makes all the difference. I want my beau to be presentable," Honor replied.

"About that. Honor. You should give up on me. I'm worthless now," Arthur said feeling sorry for himself.

"Arthur Martin. If you weren't so big I'd put you over my knee and spank you," Honor replied. "My granddad died last night. He worked until he was seventy-five. Even when he couldn't do it anymore he still found a way. Stop feeling sorry for yourself. Things could be worse, a lot worse. You can do anything you put your mind to, but not if you're acting like a baby."

"I'm sorry Honor," Arthur said a little shocked. He had never heard her speak like that before. "You're right. There are ways around things. I just don't want you to stay with me out of some misplaced sense of obligation."

"I'm a female mechanic who is sticking with the only man I've ever met who can accept it and doesn't tell me how to do my business. Even Jack tried to tell me how to adjust the mix when I was welding a part," Honor rolled her eyes. "My brother taught me when I was ten. I've been welding longer than you have I bet."

Arthur smiled at Honor's irritation. She was cute when she was fired up. He looked up to see a man who looked like Brody in a navy uniform. They visited for a few minutes until it was time for Honor and Declan to leave.

"I'll be back in a few days," Honor said giving him a peck before she left. "I expect you to look presentable when I get back. I'll give you a better kiss if you look less scruffy. You don't need me to get you to the barber. You can figure out how to get there yourself."

"Yes, Mam," Arthur replied giving her a mock salute and a rueful grin.

"Cheeky, cheeky," Honor quipped before she left.

-0-

Two weeks before Christmas 1944 Brody was home from the hospital. Arthur had been discharged two weeks before now that he was managing fairly well with a prosthetic leg and cane. Eventually he would be able to get rid of the cane as he regained more of his balance. He had asked Honor to come down to Swindon to visit but she hadn't been able to commit until Brody was out of the hospital.

"Honestly, Da," Brody complained after he was home for two days. "You need to take time off. You never do. Honor and I can manage the garage well enough without you."

"And how do you propose to do that. Grow a magic arm? You can't bend your arm more than an inch or two. How do you propose to hold a part and turn the wrench at the same time?" Kieran asked.

"I'll managed," Brody said. "I'm not going to figure it out if I don't try. My legs are healed. The doctors say its good for me to try and move my arm. The more I try the looser it will get. I can't sit here on my duff all day."

"I haven't taken more than a few days off in over twenty years and I'm not about to start," Kieran said stubbornly.

Honor was standing behind her father and mouthing his statement word for word. She had been trying to get her father to take a couple weeks for years but had no luck.

"I'm coming to work tomorrow and you can't stop me," Brody retorted just as stubbornly. "One of you can take time off."

"We're too busy to take time off," Kieran retorted.

"No we're not," Honor chimed in. "We have the service work to do for two taxi companies. It's not much more than changing oil and switching tires. They want that done by the end of the week. Brody can do that. I've got to see to a few tractors but that can wait until after Christmas and Walter will soon be off school for Christmas holidays. If you won't take time off, I will."

"But…," her father said open mouthed.

"You're daughter knows the business and she's right Brody can start with something simple and see how it goes," Lorna said. "You've said yourself it isn't that busy at Christmas."

"Arthur asked me to come for a visit before he left, I'll go see if Mary would like to come along," Honor said as she was heading out the door.

"Just like that she's leaving me alone?" Kieran questioned in bewilderment.

"She's not leaving you alone. Brody is here," Lorna reasoned.

"Maybe in a few weeks you'll believe Honor and I can do things on our own," Brody said in exasperation.

"Ornery little nippers," Kieran grumped.

"Chips off the block, Da," Brody said with a laugh.

* * *

Chapter 20 – It's About Time

The cheese shop was too busy in the pre-Christmas rush for Mary to take even a few days off. Fiala had finished her exams and was home fussing at Brody much to his disgust. In the end Fiala decided to accompany Honor to Swindon for the three day visit as a break from the stress of Brody's recovery and her last semester. Honor was glad of her sister-in-law's company on the train.

"But that can't be right," Honor said. Honor and Fiala were in the sitting room at Arthur's mother's house with Arthur and the rest of his family. "We have so much work we have to turn down maintenance contracts, not to mention business opportunities because we simply can't get everything done. I wouldn't have any time off is Brody wasn't back and starting to get back into things. How can the shops here not need a trained mechanic?"

"A heavy duty mechanic who can't lift heavy parts is next to useless," Arthur replied with a sigh.

"But there are ways around that," Honor said ruefully. "Besides you have enough experience it wouldn't take long to get on to cars and lorries or even motorcycles."

"Not everyone has your optimism, I'm afraid," he replied.

"There are factory jobs galore. You can find one after the holidays," Mrs. Martin told her son.

"I suppose," Arthur said unenthusiastically.

"You shouldn't be settling," Honor said. "Our trade pays much better than any factory job. There may not be work here but there is all kinds in the north, at least in my experience there is."

"And what would you have me do?" Arthur asked.

"Buy a recovery lorry and open your own business, or go into the used car business. Now that Brody is back, I might have time to do just that. I've been thinking about collecting a few cars people have left sit since the war started and get them back in running condition. The odd one we have out front for sale is usually snapped up in a day or two. They've all been bought by returning veterans like you. The papers all say the war can't go on too much longer, a year or two at the most. When things come to an end cars will be in demand. They are already."

"How would you have me drive a recovery lorry?" Arthur replied. "I can't work the clutch."

"Arthur!" Honor replied rolling her eyes. "How often do I have to tell you? Fabricate something to act as a hand control. It can't be that difficult to figure out."

"Says the girl with an inventor for a brother," Arthur teased. "I'll think about it."

"You're finished school soon?" Mrs. Martin asked offering the plate of saltines they were having with their tea to Fiala.

"Yes, another five months," Fiala replied. "My husband and I are planning to purchase the pharmacy in the village. I will fix it up and do a better business than Mr. Grimsby I think."

"What makes you say that?" Mrs. Martin inquired. "I thought your husband was working with Honor and her father."

"He is. He will work at the garage and I will run the pharmacy. Mr. Grimsby does not have a good variety of items people want. He is not organized. Some things are hard to get but others he doesn't carry or doesn't bother to make. I've brought you a gift."

"Another gift? You girls have already brought everything for the roast duck meal we're having tonight," Mrs. Martin said.

"The baggage compartment on the train was cold enough we didn't have to worry about it spoiling," Honor said with a chuckle. "Everything in our bags was frozen solid."

Fiala pulled a bottle from her handbag and handed it to Mrs. Martin. She handed another small bottle to Arthur's grandmother. "It is a good thing I did not put these in my case. They would have frozen and been ruined," she said. "It is hand cream. I made it myself."

"Oh, how lovely," Arthur's grandmother exclaimed opening the bottle and trying a bit on her hand. "I don't think I've seen hand cream in the shops for at least three years."

"There are many things a pharmacist can make and they are not difficult," Fiala said.

"Fiala has been making hand cream for me for the last few years," Honor contributed. "Otherwise I hate to think what my hands would look like. She mixes up diaper cream for all the babies in our family as well."

"Do you take orders?" Mrs. Martin inquired. "The ladies at my church group would go crazy for diaper cream. Most have resorted to using lard."

"I had never thought of it," Fiala replied. "I wouldn't know what to charge. I would have to work it out."

"Make a list of things you can make and prices and I'll take it along when I go to my group," Mrs. Martin said. "You may have your first order before you know it."

"That would be very nice of you," Fiala replied with a smile.

Arthur had been lost in thought while the women were chatting.

"I like the idea of a recovery truck," he said slowly. "But how do I get around the clutch? Do you mind if I borrow Honor for a bit? We could make a few drawings and see what we can come up with on our own."

"Go ahead," Mrs. Martin replied.

Fiala was busy talking about bread making with Arthur's grandmother. His Granddad was out at work. His grandparents were in their early sixties and still active.

Honor sat close to Arthur at the family dining room table while he sketched out a few ideas for a hand control and how it could work with an existing lorry. Honor had a few ideas as well. By the time they had their third idea as a rough sketch, Arthur was smiling and his eyes were shining with enthusiasm in a way Honor hadn't seen since before he had been injured. He now wore a trimmed beard to cover the scar that ran along his jaw line. Honor couldn't help thinking how distinguished he looked with the beard. He looked up from their drawings to see her watching him and smiling. She looked back at the papers on the table quickly with a blush staining her cheeks.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked quietly.

"How handsome you are with a beard," Honor said. "I think it suits you."

"Not afraid of mustaches anymore?"

"No," she replied coloring slightly.

It had been snowing heavily all of December that year which made getting around outside for Arthur difficult. He had gotten rid of his cane but walking on slippery surfaces with an artificial limb was still difficult which made going for walks to get a few minutes on their own almost impossible.

"Have you found out anything about Jack?" Honor inquired over the evening meal once everyone was seated.

"I took the bus over to visit his mother the other day," Arthur replied. "He's listed as missing."

Honor and Fiala both gasped. No one had heard a word from Jack since Brody and Arthur had been injured.

"That is terrible," Fiala said sadly.

"Let's hope he made it to the resistance," Arthur said. "I can't remember anything after a group of us getting in some vehicles at the depot to do some recoveries after a battle. After that it's blank. I don't clearly remember who was there or exactly where we were going."

"Brody can remember you were in the same vehicle," Honor said. "He seems to think Jack was in another with two other men."

"I don't know," Arthur said quietly. "I've asked his mother to contact me when she hears anything."

"Poor Sally," Honor said.

"They had a good day together. That's something," Arthur replied pushing his duck around on his plate.

"If you're not going to eat that, give it over," Arthur's Granddad said pointing to Arthur's meal. "I haven't had duck since before the war. It's too good to waste."

"I'm eating Granddad, hold your horses," Arthur said grinning at his grandfather.

The girls were staying for two nights. It was close to Christmas and the shops in town were gaily decorated for the holiday season. Fiala wanted to go through every pharmacy in town to get an idea of the products they were offering in addition to pharmacy services. Mrs. Martin offered to take her around. Honor found herself on her own with Arthur once the rest of the family had left for their jobs. They were sitting on the sofa in the sitting room watching the flames dance on the hearth. Honor was curled against his good side with her head on his shoulder.

"There's a concert tonight at the church. Christmas carols, that sort of thing, would you like to go?" he questioned.

"Yes, but that is not why I accepted your invitation to visit," Honor said slowly. "You've been home six months now. I promised you I would wait and I have."

"Honor," Arthur said with a heavy exhale. "I haven't got a job or anyway to take care of you. I get a pension but it isn't enough to live on. I still need to work and get things sorted out."

"We could sort things out together," Honor said.

"It's a lot to ask," Arthur replied. "I don't want you to be disappointed with other things was well." He looked away with a blush staining his cheeks.

"Why would I be disappointed?"

"It's not a pretty sight. You deserve more."

"Things still work, don't they?" Honor asked shyly. Private issues weren't something she discussed.

"Yes,…ehm of course, yes. That part is fine, but my leg or what's left of it is…"

"You," Honor said. "There is nothing you can do to change that."

"You think you can accept that part of things then?" Arthur asked cautiously.

She nodded against him.

"I wouldn't still be here if I couldn't," she said. "Why don't you come north and see what you can come up with for a recovery business? I certainly could never work down here. If the garages won't accept you, they aren't going to accept a woman working for them. Besides I have an established clientele that accepts me."

"There's not much sense hanging about here and working in a factory," Arthur agreed with a grimace.

"What about us?" Honor pushed. She had waited and sat by his bedside and bucked him up when he was down. She wanted to know one way or the other if they had a future together or not.

"I don't know what I would have done without you these last few months," Arthur said. "You wouldn't give up on me even when I did." He paused for a bit. "You really want to sort things out together?" He asked with a frown.

"I think the question is do you?" Honor replied.

"Oh Christ yes," Arthur replied turning and taking her in his arms. His mouth descended on hers in a way that left no question as to his desire for her. Honor could feel the beat of his heart through the shirt and vest he was wearing. Her lips were tingling from his kiss when they finally pulled apart. "Marry me?" he asked.

"Only if you promise to wed me before the end of the year," Honor said. Her hand had slipped down and was resting on his good thigh. "Everything seems to be working fine," she commented then turned bright red.

"A little anxious to try things out?" he asked with a twinkle in his eye.

Honor nodded and buried her burning cheeks against his shoulder. "I brought a chaperone for a reason," she said.

"Your chaperone is out. We could try things out now," Arthur said mischievously.

"Arthur Martin I should slap your face," Honor said laughing and getting to her feet.

"Where are you off to?" Arthur said reaching for her hand and trying to pull her back.

"We're going out. You need to cool off a bit," Honor replied. "Besides all the more incentive for you to get me to the alter before the end of the month. I'm not letting you back out now."

"What do you propose we live on?" Arthur asked pushing himself to his feet.

"I have the same job as a man and live with my parents. What do you think I've been doing with my wages all this time?"

"You are one determined woman with an answer for everything," Arthur said smiling at her as he pushed himself to his feet. "It is rather appealing."

"Just don't forget you said that when I'm six months pregnant and won't fit under a car one day," Honor said laughing.

"I won't forget," he said. "We'll go buy the ring then sit down and make some plans. Would that suit you my lady?" He quipped.

"Perfectly," Honor replied smiling then kissing him on the mouth as she placed his scarf around his neck. It really was freezing outside and there was no time like the present to learn how to support her fiancée on an icy sidewalk.

-0-

"Why are you in such a rush to get married?" Kieran asked when Honor told the family the news.

"We can't get anything sorted out with Arthur down south and me up here. We'll find a small flat, get married and Arthur can look for a recovery lorry to modify so he can drive it. We can always buy and sell a few cars to make ends meet," Honor replied. "We've been working the numbers out on paper and between us we've got enough for a modest start as long as we don't go overboard."

"Recovery is heavy work in all kinds of conditions. How do you expect him to manage?" Kieran said.

"The same way Brody is managing, Da. Bit by bit. Arthur will learn car repair as well. It's not that much different from the work he has been doing," Honor replied.

"I am managing, Da," Brody said. "It's taking a bit of doing, but I am getting there. Arthur isn't lazy. He'll figure it out as well."

"You aren't managing well enough to run a business. You're too slow," Kieran replied stubbornly.

"Da, honestly," Honor groaned. "Brody has only just got back to things. He got the two contracts done on time. He'll get faster. It's only been a few weeks."

"What have you got to say?" Kieran asked looking at Lorna.

"It does seem a bit hasty, Honor," Lorna replied.

"Brody marries a girl in under two weeks, Declan marries a girl he barely knows in seven days and you're protesting me marrying someone I've known for a year and a half and visited every other day for months while he was in hospital?"

"It's different. They're men," Lorna said.

"Eeeer," Honor growled standing up and putting her hands on the table. "I work in the same job as a man. I make the same money. I make decisions almost everyday to do with Da's business and you don't trust my judgment when it comes to this?"

"We don't want to see you hurt and we want you taken care of," her mother replied.

"Arthur is never going to get anywhere in Swindon. He'll be stuck in a nowhere factory job that will disappear when the war is over that he will hate. We've worked things out on paper, with our combined savings, his severance pay and pension, my inheritance, and regular wages we'll be just fine. It won't be long and he'll get his own business together. I told him Da had business connections we could use to help get the recovery business started," Honor said with a cringe.

"It's true I do," Kieran said with some of his irritation fading. His daughter knew his business almost as well as he did. "Once you get a recovery lorry and he's driving well enough I'll introduce him around," Kieran said finally letting go the breath he had been holding. "With another mechanic about we could start doing more used cars as well. There is lots of business, just no one to do the work."

"Thank you, Da," Honor said excitedly running around the table and hugging her father and mother. "You too, Brody," Honor said hugging her brother then dashing to the door for her coat.

"Where are you off to in such a hurry?" Kieran called. He hadn't made it out of his chair at the kitchen table.

"I have to go talk to Mr. Fisher. Arthur is Church of England. We'll get married at the village church," Honor called before the door banged shut behind her.

"You just had to bring a Protestant home to meet your sister?" Kieran asked looking at Brody with a cocked eyebrow.

"I didn't ask him. He just showed up. He is a decent bloke who saved my skin more than once," Brody replied in exasperation as he stood up. "I'm going to find Fee and take her for a walk."

"An English Protestant son-in-law," Kieran said to Lorna once Brody had left the room.

"Cheer up at least he's not a peer like Quinlan's bride," Lorna said with a laugh.

"True," Kieran said. "Where are the younger two? I fancy a walk with my bride myself."

"They've gone sledding."

"We might as well go join them before they find sweethearts and decide to leave us as well," Kieran said holding Lorna's coat for her.

"They're just little boys."

"It seems like just the other day you said that about the other three," Kieran replied.

"You're such an old mother hen," Lorna said taking her husband's arm as they headed towards the hill where the village children liked to sled.

"I like my chicks around me," Kieran replied with a chuckle.


	32. Letters from Home Part VI

Letters from Home – Part VI

Chapter 21 – The Cold Winter

"That boy is going to be one blinding salesman," Arthur said to Brody while he was wiping the grease from his hands at Kieran's garage in early February 1945. Walter was busy taking in an appointment and talking the client into having their tires rotated and the wiper blades changed as well as the oil change they had booked.

"He has an old jam tin under his bed stuffed with coins," Brody said with a chuckle. "He's a cheeky one. Last spring he dug three broken sleds out of the village junk pile, brought them back and did a few repairs. He put them on the wall out front at the first hint of snow and sold the lot in a day. He's forever buying and selling something. How's the lorry coming?"

"It would be coming a lot faster if it wasn't so bleeding cold out," Arthur replied. Despite the cold the new recovery lorry sitting in front of the garage was getting a lot of attention. People had been stopping by to chat and find out the latest since Arthur and Brody had picked it up in Leeds. It had been great deal harder to find a recovery lorry than they had expected. The first two they had looked at were better suited to the scrap heap and the trip to take a look had been a waste of time and money. Finally they had heard of a recovery lorry near Leeds. The current owner was selling up as his two sons had been killed in the war and he was retiring.

The vehicle had needed some work and would need a paint job in the spring, but it was a start. The final price had been more than Honor and Arthur had planned to spend but the shortage of vehicles was only going to get worse. Every bit of steel had gone to the war effort. Vehicle production for civilian purposes was at a stand still. To get the lorry back to Downton Brody had driven with Arthur working the gear shift as neither one could manage the heavy vehicle on their own with their disabilities. The previous owner had a good chuckle when the two of them had gotten in to drive it away.

"You've already got three jobs lined up and you haven't even tried to drive her yet," Brody said.

"I'll give it a go this afternoon when there are less people about," Arthur replied. Liam had been by and given them a few pointers on making the system they had come up with strong enough to withstand the daily wear and tear the lorry would be subjected to. In the end they were confident they had all come up with something that was dependable enough Arthur should be able to drive by the end of the following week with a little practice. "You're father wasn't messing about when he said used cars sell quick."

"Da knows his business and Honor knows it almost as well," Brody replied. "They can smell a good opportunity."

Honor had found out about a car that had been stored since the beginning of the war when a woman's husband in the next village had joined up right away. She had paid the woman a visit and negotiated a good price for the vehicle that wouldn't start and had four flat tires. Arthur had gone with her. They had towed the car back behind the shop lorry. Arthur had taken on the job of cleaning the fuel lines and carburetor of fouled petrol and getting the car running. The others were around for pointers if he ran into any problems. As soon as they had the car washed and cleaned it had sold for almost double what they had paid for it after only two days.

"Quinlan and Liam used to sell used cars and motorcycles. They did a good trade until their design business took over and the war came along. Da has never had enough time to do more than the odd sale here and there. It could be a lucrative part of the business," Brody said.

"It will be easier once I get onto the recovery lorry," Arthur replied. "I was nervous towing with an underpowered vehicle."

"You're spoiled," Brody ribbed him.

Late that afternoon Arthur started up the lorry and cautiously started off through the village. Walter and Tim were squashed in the passenger seat. Riding in such a large vehicle was fascinating and a tale they could tell their friends at school the next day. Arthur was holding his breath slightly until they cleared the edge of the village and the road opened up. He had stalled twice maneuvering through the village and there were a few ground gears and rolling shifts. By the time they got back to the shop he was starting to get the feel of the hand control. It needed a few adjustments and more practice but it would do the job nicely. He still had his doubts as driving with a heavy load would be an entirely different story but he was committed now. He had to make the best of things.

Tim came flying through the front door of the cheese shop to tell his mother and everyone there about his ride and how many of his friends he had waved to as they passed by. Mary cut Tim a small slice of cheese and one for his brother before he ran back to the garage to find out what else was going on.

"Honor is married now," Mary said thoughtfully. "All of my friends are married and I am not."

"There is no rush, Mary," Lorna said as they were washing the counters for the end of the day. "You have only been out of school just over a year."

"I do the job of a wife, yet I have no husband," Mary replied.

"If you had three wishes and could do anything you want what would they be?" Lorna asked.

"It is silly," Mary said.

"It's make believe. What would your wishes be if you didn't have to work and could do anything you liked?" Lorna asked again.

"I would paint," Mary replied. "Then I would sell enough paintings and buy my own camera."

"That's two. What would the third one be?"

"I would kiss the boy I liked and find out what happened to my parents," Mary said quietly.

Lorna put down her cloth and put an arm around Mary's shoulders.

"The war can't last forever. When it's done, you will find out one day," she said seriously.

Mary nodded with her head down.

"You cheated and made four wishes," Lorna said in a lighter voice. "You have some money in your account. Why don't you draw some out and make one of your wishes come true?"

"I will," Mary said with a smile. She would go to the general merchant on her day free and see if they had some paints. Meanwhile one of her wishes wouldn't cost her a cent.

-0-

"Mark, I think you need a haircut," Mary said that evening while they were setting out the dinner. Anya had gone home in the afternoon to make the evening meal. Without the elderly people in the house to care for there was considerably less work and the four of them were managing easily. Harkin had started climbing out of his playpen enclosure at the shop and was now spending mornings with Grandma Lorna at her cottage.

"It's not that bad," Mark said not really listening. He still adored Mary but she seemed indifferent to every thing he had tried to get her attention. He had given her a pretty scarf for Christmas that he had yet to see her wear. She had grazed his cheek with her lips in thanks but had avoided the mistletoe hanging in doorways religiously throughout the season.

"I was thinking I could trim it for you after dinner," she said casually. "You wouldn't have to go to the barber so soon."

"Yes, if you would like to try," Mark replied hopefully. "I would not mind."

After their evening meal was washed up, Mary had Mark sit on a chair in the kitchen. She put a towel on his shoulders and began snipping bits of hair with a scissors and comb. She was only taking a bit off here and there. She fluffed his hair with her fingers then moved to a different spot. He was enjoying the feel of Mary playing with his hair. This was the closest thing she had ever done that could be considered in the least romantic and he was enjoying every second.

She slowly worked her way around to the front then nudged his knees apart so she could stand directly in front of him. Mark swallowed hard at the sight of her cleavage so close in front of his face and the feel of her hands running through his hair. He let his eyes drift shut and enjoyed the sensation until he felt her fingers run down the side of his face.

"I am done," she said. "Open your eyes so you can see." She was bent over with her face only inches from his as she removed the towel from around his shoulders. Mark jumped to his feet so fast he knocked the chair he had been sitting on over. He reached for Mary and pulled her close, kissing her as though his life depended on it. Gregor came to see what the racket was then quietly backed out of the kitchen when he spotted his two friends locked together in an embrace.

Mary had been surprised by the swiftness of Mark's actions. The feel of his lips on hers had startled her at first until she relaxed and started to enjoy the sensation. His back and arms were strong from the lifting he did all day and felt wonderful under her fingers. Kissing him at last was a lot nicer than anything she had dreamed about.

She knew a great deal about matchmaking for everyone but herself. As soon as her own emotions had gotten in the way she had not known what to do or say when she was around him for months. Shortly after Granddad had died they had cleaned out his room and Anya had moved to the larger bedroom. Mary had their old room to herself. Mark had given her a scarf for Christmas and she had put it in her drawer and only taken it out when she was alone in her room to rub it against her cheek.

Mark slowly broke the first kiss then kissed her again more fully when she didn't resist. Mary slid her hands down the front of his shirt when he slowly released her.

"I have wanted to do that for a very long time," Mark said quietly.

"That was…" words were escaping her which was unusual. "Not what I expected for a thank you," Mary said at long last. "I had best clean up."

She quickly moved to pick up the chair and the towel from where it had dropped. Mark turned and touched her arm.

"You will be my girl, now?" he asked seriously.

Mary nodded then dashed outside to shake out the towel. By the time she got back inside Mark had swept up the floor and was off whistling in the house.

"What is wrong with your hair?" Gregor asked him a bit later.

"Mary cut it. I will wear a hat and go to the barber in a few days," Mark said with a smile.

"I will not let her cut my hair," Gregor commented ruefully.

"You can find your own girl to cut your hair," Mark said giving him a warning look.

"I will find one when I am older and she will like cows." Gregor replied. "When will you ask Mary?"

"When Declan comes again. He will have to sign the papers. He is our Guardian now."

"You will have to wait a long time," Gregor said shaking his head.

"I already have," Mark said smiling and heading to bathroom to get cleaned up.

-0-

The cold weather had turned to rain and with it the roads were a quagmire of mud. At least two calls a day had been coming into the garage for recovery. At the end of the first month Honor had reviewed the books with Arthur. They were sitting in the office of the garage.

"We didn't loose anything," she said once they had gone over the numbers.

"We'll need a lot more business to be able to live on it," Arthur replied in a discouraged voice.

"It's only the first month," Honor replied rubbing his arm. "You've been getting a few more calls everyday this last while.

Arthur nodded.

"I need to get better at buying cars so you or your Dad don't have to go out and do it. It would save time."

"It just takes practice," Honor replied encouragingly. "You'll get onto it. It's only been two months."

"We need to get a steady contract or two for the lorry for moving heavy items and such," Arthur commented with a sigh.

"Why don't we make up a flyer and send it around the cartage companies? You might pick up some work moving heavy items they don't have the vehicles for," Honor commented.

Just then the phone started ringing and Arthur left to see to a delivery lorry that had tipped over in a ditch. It was late in the afternoon and the rain of the last two days had gotten heavier. A strong wind was blowing as well. Honor finished up at the garage for the afternoon and headed over to her parents for a quick bite. There were a stack of calls for recovery that had been piling up all afternoon and no word from her husband. She headed back over to the garage in case he called. While she was waiting another three calls came in. She promised they would get to them as soon as possible the following morning. It was almost nine by the time Arthur pulled alongside the garage and cut the motor.

"Where have you been all this time?" Honor asked worriedly.

"The weather has been keeping me busy," Arthur said getting down slowly and trying not to put weight on his bad leg. "I'd just get one lorry unstuck and towed back to the depot and they wanted me to go for another. I hauled three for one company alone. Two others flagged me down. I'll go back for the last one once it's light," he said wincing.

"What's wrong," Honor asked in concern.

"It's the prosthetic. They told me this could happen for the first couple years. Can you run in and get my crutches?" he asked.

Once they were back to their flat, Honor was alarmed by the sight of the ugly welts that had formed on Arthur's partial leg.

"Arthur! Your leg," she exclaimed.

"Don't fret. The skin isn't as tough as it needs to be yet. Slipping around in the mud trying to get the cables on a lorry in the dark wasn't the best for it," he said with a sigh. "I hate to ask Brody but I'll have to take him with me tomorrow for at least half of the jobs. I won't be able to wear the artificial leg."

"I could come," Honor volunteered.

"I need Brody. There is an art to getting a fully loaded lorry that is on its side back on its wheels without doing extensive damage. We knew this would take some getting used to."

"Do you regret me pushing you into this," Honor asked downcast.

"Not for a second. My leg or what's left of it will toughen up. This is what I know how to do. This is the first time I feel like I've actually done a good days work in a long time. I feel good. You were right about a factory job. It would have driven me insane."

"There's a stack of calls in the office at the garage for tomorrow," Honor called as she was getting Arthur something to eat. He was in the bath filling the tub.

"We need a radio for the truck," he said when he emerged from the bath twenty minutes later in his robe. He made his way to the table on his crutches. "The military has them. There must be a civilian equivalent. I could have done one or two of the stranded motors before I came back."

"You did more than enough for one day," Honor informed him. "I would like to know where you are though. I was rather worried."

"It's nice to know I'm missed. Curl up with me?" Arthur asked taking her hand and pulling her into his lap at the table. He winced as soon as Honor's weight touched his sore thigh.

"It's going to take some creativity if you want that tonight," Honor said in a teasing voice as she hopped off his lap.

"Creativity is your middle name," Arthur said with a lecherous smile and pulling her back close.

* * *

Chapter 22 – Aftermath

"Hello, Downton Foundling Home," Liam said into the telephone. It was July 1945. Germany had surrendered in May and there was a general feeling of euphoria in the village and in the Foundling Home. Word would finally be available about family for many of the children staying with them. The Red Cross was taking names and making lists for reunification. It wouldn't be long and the service men and women would start returning home.

"Liam, I'm glad I've caught you," Quinlan said on the other end.

"Do you want to speak to Alice?"

"No. Not right this minute," Quinlan replied. Liam could hear the serious tone of his cousin's voice.

"What's up?"

"There is some very disturbing information going out on the wire to the news services within the hour. It's just been declassified," Quinlan said. "You need to sit down."

"What is it?" Liam asked when he had taken a seat. He knew Quinlan well enough to trust his judgment.

"The things the children told us who came in the first transports, about people disappearing in the night and camps where they were separated from their parents, it was all true."

"Sweet Jesus," Liam replied.

"There's more, a lot more. The Nazis have been conducting mechanized genocide. It's on a scale that is quite frankly overwhelming. As the forces have been going through Europe they've been liberating camps. The Brits, Americans, Canadians and Soviets have all found them. There are forced labor camps, camps where people have been starved to death in the thousands, mass graves and the worst…" Quinlan paused. "There are some camps where men, women and children were put to death within hours of when they arrived."

"Good God," Liam said when he had recovered from the shock.

"They're preparing charges on some of the top generals and officials that were involved. They're going to be put to trial starting in November," Quinlan said. "I thought you should know. It will give you a chance to prepare the children before the news breaks. It should be in the morning papers."

"There's Fiala and Declan's family as well," Liam commented. "Is there any hope of finding surviving relations?"

"I don't know," Quinlan replied with a sigh. "There are survivors but quite frankly it's a mess. It's going to take forever for the authorities to straighten it out. It's not part of what I'm involved in but they showed us the confirmed reports."

"I'm glad you've called. It will give us some time to prepare everyone," Liam said.

"I've got to get going," Quinlan replied. "Hug my little ones for me. I'll get home as soon as I can."

"I'll do that," Liam said before he signed off. He set the phone down and took a few minutes to collect himself. His hands were shaking. The euphoria of the last six weeks was suddenly gone. They had twenty-five children in the home, ten of which were from the original Kindertransport. The majority were now almost finished school but still how did you tell someone news that horrifying who's family was most likely one of the victims?

Liam picked up the phone to call the Reverend Fisher and his wife and ask them to come over. He called his father as well and asked him to bring Lillian, Brody and his Uncle Kieran along. It was after dinner and most of the residents at the home were doing their evening chores, playing board games or settling down for the night.

"That was Quinlan on the phone," Liam told Sybil quietly. "I've called our parents, the Fishers and Uncle Kieran to come over. We need to collect Alice as well. We'll have a meeting in the dining room. I'll tell you the news once everyone's together."

"Liam you look so serious," Sybil said. "It's not Declan is it?"

"No, thank goodness," he replied. "But the news isn't pleasant."

Alice was in the early stages of her third pregnancy and had been quite ill. It was a somber group assembled at the dining room table with the doors to the room closed. By the time Liam finished telling them the news there wasn't a drop of color left in anyone's face.

"Fiala's been pretty sure her family was dead all along," Brody said. "This just confirms it."

"It's going to be all over the papers come morning," Liam said. "We need to break it to everyone before they hear it elsewhere. I thought you and Uncle Kieran could take care of telling Declan's family."

"Don't worry about our lot," Kieran replied. "Brody and I will take care of it."

"That leaves us with the problem of telling the children living here," Reverend Fisher said. "It's not going to be easy, but they'll have to be told in a way they can understand."

"The older ones will understand. They remember parts of it," Sybil said. "Lillian, Da, I'm glad you're here." Her father put his hand on hers and gave it a reassuring squeeze.

"We've known since before the war started something wasn't right," Alice said. "This just proves it."

-0-

"Brody, Fiala what are you doing here so late?" Anya questioned when she opened the door to their knock. They were on the stoop with Walter and Tim.

"We've had a bit of news," Brody said. "Ma and Da have gone to get Honor and Arthur, they'll be along in a moment."

"What is going on?" Mark asked.

"I don't know," Fiala replied. "Brody said he will tell everyone once we are together."

Once everyone was assembled Kieran broke the news to the entire group. By the time he was finished Mark was holding a sobbing Mary and Fiala was shaking like a leaf with Brody's rubbing her back trying to comfort her.

"I knew. I saw part of it," Mark said sadly. He was stroking Mary's hair trying to comfort her.

"We all knew in our own way," Anya said wiping her eyes. "It is still hard to hear our suspicions be confirmed."

"It's still too early for full confirmation on everyone's family," Arthur commented. "But from what we've just heard it doesn't sound good."

"I'll make a hot drink," Lorna said. "Then we all need to get some rest. People will be reeling in the morning once they read the papers."

"Can you take Harkin in the morning?" Anya asked Lorna. "I will go to the orphanage and sit with some of the others. They will have a hard time."

"Yes, of course, Anya," Lorna replied. She felt as though she were living in a house of cards and someone had just pulled the bottom card.

-0-

"Don't you ever do anything but stick your head under a lorry," a familiar voice said one afternoon in late November 1945. Brody Branson tossed the wrench he was using back into a tool tray and skidded the dolly he was lying on out from under the lorry.

"Jack, you tosser. Not a word in over a year and here you are," Brody got up quickly and hugged the other man with his good arm. "Let me have a look at you."

Jack's hair was longer than when Brody had last seen him and he was thinner and more weathered but he still had the same crooked smile and masses of freckles.

"I decided to bring my wife Sally to see the lot of you. Sally this is Brody Branson."

"How do you do?" Sally said.

"Better now that I now Jack's alive and kicking," Brody replied. "Where have you been all this time?"

"I was pulled out of the wreck by the Italian resistance. By the time I came to I was in a cave in the mountains of Italy. They told me later the other two in my truck were dead. I didn't connect up with a bunch of Yanks until May this year. By the time they verified who I was and got me back to a Brit unit it was the beginning of August," Jack said.

"You could have let us know," Brody admonished. "Arthur married my sister. He's out on a call he'll be back in a bit."

"When I found out you two were still alive I wanted a visit to be a surprise. I only got back two weeks ago. As soon as I got home we were wed. If I never see snow again it will be too soon. We're seeing a few friends then moving to California." Jack replied. "I've got a cousin over there who has offered me a spot."

"Haven't you seen enough of the world?" Brody joked.

"This time I'm doing it on my terms," Jack replied with a grin.

"Let me call Honor. She's out back," Brody said.

Sally saw someone who looked like a young boy covered in grease and oil come from the back of the shop. The boy's face was covered in smears of dirty motor oil that looked as though there had been no more attempt to remove it than smearing his sleeve across his face while he was working. An old flat cap twisted around backwards covered his hair. He was followed by an older man she assumed was Brody's father.

"Jack, Sally, how nice to see you," a familiar voice said from under the dirty jumper and smears of grease.

"Honor is that you?" Sally asked in surprise.

"The one and same," Honor replied. "How long are you staying? I won't touch you. I'd get you all dirty."

"We have no real schedule," Jack replied. "We've got two weeks. We're playing it by ear."

"Then we'll get you over to Ma and Da's and you can stay there a few days. Our brother Declan is supposed to arrive home in a few days for good. It would be lovely if you're here to meet him when he arrives," Honor said. "I'll go radio Arthur and let him know you're here."

"We don't want to impose," Sally said.

"You won't be," Kieran replied. "My wife Lorna likes a bit of company now and then. Pleased to meet you Sally. I've heard quite a bit about you from Honor and Mary."

"Fee will want to meet you, Sally and see Jack. Arthur will want to show off his rig. They just bought one of those new two-way civilian radios for the rig and they have one here at the shop. Honor can't leave it alone. " Brody said with a chuckle. "She clucks almost as much as Fee."

A few days later the family was all gathered at Kieran's to welcome Declan home. The navy had announced personnel could apply for release but releases would be carried out over a two year period as there was still a great deal of work still to be done. Declan had applied right away and been released after four months as he had volunteered near the beginning of the war.

"I think I'm going to take a few weeks," Keiran announced out of blue. The entire room went quiet.

"Kieran you never take time off," Tom said to his brother.

"Declan is back for good, Mary and Mark are getting married next week, I think it's about time the old man had a few days off," Kieran said. "The younger ones shouldn't be able to ruin my business in two weeks."

"Oh Da," Brody groaned then immediately started to laugh.

"It's about time," Honor said with a chuckle.

-0-

"I'm going to go talk to Mr. Barns at Merry Hill Farm," Gregor announced one afternoon in mid-December while they were working at the cheese shop. Declan was back working at the shop with Mark and Gregor. They still had orders for everything they could produce. The end of the war hadn't slowed things down one bit. Rationing and food shortages were still an issue. The agricultural industry on the continent had been all but destroyed during the war and the shops they were supplying would take every bit they could get.

"What about?" Declan asked his brother-in-law.

"I like farming," Gregor replied. "I would like to find a job close and I know Merry Hill well. Mr. Barns mentioned he needed help the other day."

"Have you mentioned this to your sister?" Declan inquired. Mark had stopped working as well and was listening to the conversation.

"I would still see her often," Gregor said. "You and Mark can do the work here."

"You're family. We don't want you going off on your own," Declan said.

"I will deliver the milk. You will see me everyday," Gregor reasoned.

Official word had come through confirming Anya and Gregor's parents were dead. The occupying government years ago had ceased all of their parents' assets. There was nothing left of their previous life. There was no word yet on Mary's family but six of the children from their evacuee group still at the orphanage had all received similar notices. There was no one left to go home to.

"If it's what you really want, then go ahead. Just tell Anya first," Declan replied.

The shop was a bit different than the last time he had been home on leave from the navy. Mary had taken up painting and Anya had hung a picture of the Merry Hill Farmhouse who was their milk supplier in the shop plus another picture of the front of their cottage. Fiala had her pharmacy well in hand and Mary had a few pictures of the local area on display there as well.

"I saw Hans the other day," Gregor said. "He will go to live at Merry Hill when he is finished school this spring as well. It is strange they say there is a shortage of jobs, but people do not want to work on the farms."

"They've gotten used to the flash of the cities," Declan said. "When the severance pay runs out and they don't have change in their pockets they'll come flooding back."

"Maybe," Gregor replied. "The city has no appeal for me."

"Me either," Mark said. "I will stay here. We have made a family for ourselves here. There is nothing in the city for me."

"You and Mary are welcome to stay as long as you like," Declan said.

"Where would we go?" Mark questioned with a shrug.

Shortly before Christmas 1945 Arthur had just returned from dropping a collection of wagon axels off at the scrap yard for one of the local farmers. Scrap metal of any kind was in high demand. The factories in the north were working at full capacity but steel was still in short supply.

"There's something up at the pub," he commented as he headed into the office.

Honor and Brody went to the door to look down the lane and see what was happening. People along the street were standing in shop doors or paused in their tasks to watch the show. Mr. Maynard the local pub owner and his son were pushing a piano out the door of the Grantham Arms with Mrs. Maynard standing in the middle of the lane wringing her hands and calling directions.

"Steady on, Weldon. Don't scratch it," they could hear her say.

"Da, you've got to see this," Brody called over his shoulder. He could see Declan, Mark and Anya with their heads stuck out of their shop down the way. Fiala was on the stoop at the pharmacy as well. Mr. Maynard was a village character. Wherever he was or whatever he was doing was almost sure to be a topic of discussion for years to come.

The two men pushed and pulled and finally got the piano to some planks running up into the back of a lorry.

"Arthur, you should give them a hand," Honor admonished.

"Not on your life," Arthur replied dryly. "I've already lost one leg I don't plan on loosing the other one."

The men made numerous attempts to get the piano onto the lorry. After much adjusting of planks, pulling with ropes and general loud grunting the piano was finally on board. The could see the younger Maynard get into the back with the piano while his father headed to the driver seat of the lorry.

"Aren't they going to strap it down?" Brody questioned with his brow wrinkled.

"Doesn't look that way," his father replied with a chuckle.

Mr. Maynard started the engine of the lorry. It was a particularly ancient vehicle that belched smoke and backfired constantly. Everyone knew when Weldon Maynard passed through the village on his weekly trip to pick up his supply of spirits. He revved the engine with clouds of smoke billowing around the lorry. The lorry took off down the cobbled street with the engine roaring and sound of the younger Maynard screaming, "Slow down, Dad," from the back of the lorry. They hadn't gone twenty feet when the lorry hit a small incline in the road. The piano hit the gate at the back of the vehicle knocking it open with a loud crash and shot out the back onto the lane. There was a deafening racket as the piano bounced and rolled down the lane clinging, clanging and playing off notes as the strings burst and ivory piano keys flew in every direction. It finally came to rest in a pile of broken bits of wood just outside of the pub. Anyone who hadn't already been out to see the show was now at a window or sticking their head out the door to see what the racket was about.

The driver's door on the lorry flew open and Weldon Maynard jumped out. He had his pipe firmly wedged between his teeth and stood with his hands on his hips.

"I told you to hold onto it," he yelled at his son without removing the pipe from his mouth.

Kieran missed the rest of the show as he doubled over laughing.

Honor was still watching as the younger Mr. Maynard got down from the lorry and stood there looking ruefully at the ruined piano laying in a pile in the street.

"I told you not to scratch it!" Mrs. Maynard said in a loud voice while swatting her son.

"It's a little more than scratched, Mom," the younger Mr. Maynard replied.

"We'll pick it up and use it for kindling," Weldon Maynard finally said scratching his head.

Honor couldn't watch anymore as she started to laugh as well. People along the street were laughing and pointing. It took a good ten minutes for everyone to go back about his or her business.

"It's good to know the war hasn't changed some things," Kieran commented as he wiped his eyes and went back to work.

* * *

Chapter 23 – The Next Generation

"Where are you off to?" Honor asked her husband that evening.

"After that show this afternoon, every man in the village will be at the pub," Arthur said with a huge grin.

"I suppose Da and Brody agreed to meet you there?" Honor said with a smile.

Arthur nodded then kissed her on the cheek. "I won't be late. I'll just stay for a pint or two. I don't want to miss it."

When Arthur got to the Grantham Arms the pub was already packed. He managed to finally push his way to the bar for a pint then headed over to join Brody, Declan and Kieran. He spotted Tom Branson in the crowd as well as Lord Grantham and John Harris the local brew master.

Everyone was retelling their version of the piano moving incident and going on to tell the many stories about the establishment owner and his misadventures over the years. Weldon and Peter Maynard were busy filling drinks and taking ribbing from the many men in attendance. The local butcher went to the phone when it started ringing and picked it up.

"Hey Weldon. It's the movers from Ripon," he called across the bar. "They want to know if you and you're son are free tomorrow to move a piano."

Everyone in the bar roared with laughter.

"Sod off," Weldon yelled back. His son continued filling drinks and wiping the counter as if nothing was amiss.

-0-

"That was quite the show this afternoon," Honor said. The women had all gone over to visit Anya and Mary while the men were at the pub.

"Mrs. Maynard told me the other day she was giving the piano to her daughter as a wedding present," Fiala said with round eyes and a serious expression. "Now it is finished."

"Instead her husband gave a present to the entire village," Mary said bursting out laughing.

It took a few minutes for the women to dry their eyes after they finished laughing.

"Arthur had a call to move a safe tomorrow in Malton," Honor said when she had finally recovered her laughter. "Maybe we should call the Maynards to see if they want to go along for a repeat performance."

It took everyone a bit to recover again.

"I have to tell you what happened," Fiala said. "I can't tell you when people come for prescriptions but when they come for general advice…It is too good to hold back."

Fiala and Brody had purchased the pharmacy from Mr. Grimsby for a good price. His business had been failing for years and he was glad to be rid of it. They had given the walls and shelving a coat of paint. Fiala had made new curtains for the windows and brightened the shop up with some of Mary's paintings. She had a wider selection of products for people to choose from and her jars of diaper cream, hand cream and bath oils were selling as fast as she could get the supplies to make a new batch.

"I had a lady come in yesterday morning. She wanted to know if there was a salve to heal bruises," Fiala said trying to hold back her mirth.

"What is unusual about that?" Lorna asked.

"It was for her husband's thing. He had caught it between two boxes when it was stiff. The best part it was Mrs. Stevens," Fiala said collapsing in a heap and laughing until she was almost sick.

"No, the town baker," Mary said wide-eyed.

"I saw them out yesterday at the shop," Anya said laughing. "He could hardly walk. He is forever trying to pinch my bottom."

"Mine too," Mary said giggling.

"On a more serious note," Lorna said when she had wiped the tears from her eyes. "We heard from a relative of Walter and Tim's. They wanted to know if the boys wanted to come and live with them."

"What did the boys say?" Anya asked seriously.

"I believe Walter's exact words were, 'They can bleeding sod off. Now that I've got a few coins in my bank they don't need to think they are going to get their thieving 'ands on 'em." Lorna said. "We legally adopted so things are final. We left the door open if the boys want to contact them in the future, but for now it doesn't look that way. I couldn't give the two of them up no matter what."

"You can't blame Walter for feeling that way, Ma," Honor said. "I can't remember before but we have a good life here and a family that wants us. Why would any of us go back especially when they turned their back on you when you needed them most."

"Tim is a good shop boy," Fiala said. "He is good on the till and tidying up. He is fast doing deliveries for me. He will be a good shop keeper someday."

"And Walter could sell iceboxes to Eskimos," Lorna added. "It seems you all have grown up so fast. Walter will be done school in the spring. Tim only has two more years."

"There will be another to care for," Fiala said with a smile. "In another eight months."

"Does Brody know?" Anya asked.

Fiala nodded.

"Just don't call the baby Weldon if it's a boy," Honor said starting to giggle again. "The name might be cursed.

-0-

"What were you talking to Liam and Quinlan about?" Lillian asked Tom Branson in early February 1946. Quinlan was supposed to be finished his contract with the War Department but they had extended it another six months. He hadn't been happy about it but he had some work to finish up and it had been deemed essential.

"Quinlan still wants to move to the Irish Free State. Liam and Sybil want to go as well. Not right away of course but within the next few years," Tom replied thoughtfully. "They want the family to pack up and go with them."

"Tom, that's a big move," Lillian said. "Would you seriously consider it?" After over twenty years of marriage she knew her husband still thought of Ireland as home.

"I've wanted to go back for over twenty years," Tom replied with a sigh. "I was thinking of applying for a pardon. If I could get a pardon we would have a choice instead of an unequivocal NO."

"I don't know if the younger children would want to move to Ireland," Lillian said.

"It's hard to say," Tom replied. "Ronan is in his last year of studying agriculture. Branna and Aideen are working as nurses and Lilly has the rest of this year at college. They are grown up. They could come with us or they could wind up married with their own lives and decide to stay in England."

"If it's what you really want and you can get the pardon and the children are settled and decided, we'll go at least for a while."

"I have to say it is time for pass off the reigns of running the estate to the younger generation," Tom replied. "Peter will be back soon and Freddie is home and learning the ropes at the cannery. The war and the constant shortages and demands on the estate have worn me out. I'm ready for a break."

"We fared better than some," Lillian said with a sigh and going to sit on Tom's lap on the sofa. "We still have more than most with all the produce and the availability of fresh game. What do you think you'd do in Ireland?"

"Raise a few sheep and find the time to read all the books I've wanted to over the last ten years or more and haven't had the time to," Tom replied with a half smile.

"You wouldn't want to live in Dublin?"

"No. It would have to be somewhere away from the city," Tom said thoughtfully. "I am a country boy at heart although Robert Crawley has never thought so."

"Why do you still let him get under your skin?" Lillian said opening the top buttons of Tom's shirt and playing with the skin at the top of his chest. He was still an incredibly handsome man at fifty-five or at least she thought so.

"Despite everything and everything we've gone through, I'm still the chauffeur," Tom replied. "Not to Edith and John, but to the rest of them I am."

"Then it's time to move on if you feel like that. You're my husband and I don't want you ever feeling second class," Lillian said kissing her husband on the lips. _"He still has the cutest small freckles along the top of his lip,"_ she thought.

"There are some advantages to only having two daughters living at home who both have fulltime occupations," Tom said with a huge smile and standing up with Lillian in his arms.

"What would those be?" Lillian asked coyly.

"We can go upstairs and make as much noise as we like and not have to worry about the children overhearing," Tom said as he was climbing the stairs.

"Why Tom Branson, I never thought you worried about it," Lillian replied batting her eyelashes.

"At the moment, I couldn't careless," he said kicking open their bedroom door.

-0-

"What do you think of Quinlan's idea to move to the Irish Free State?" Sybil asked Brody and Honor when she had stopped by the garage one afternoon in March. Sybil was pregnant for the third time and starting to show.

"I'm not keen," Brody replied. "Fiala has her pharmacy set up and is doing well and we have more than enough work here. Honor and I have been thinking of getting a few new cars in to sell from the manufacturers now that they are starting back up."

"My husband is English," Honor replied. "We've just got his business over the first year hurdle and we're doing well. It seems silly to sell up and start over in a new country."

"I can understand that," Sybil replied. "But I can understand Liam and Quinlan too. They're both feeling used up and ready for a change. I have to admit I am too."

"Have any of the children from the continent received word their parents have been located?" Brody inquired.

"One or two of the later ones from Yugoslavia have heard from family but no parents so far," Sybil replied. "They'll be coming to England as displaced persons and will meet up with the children here. The sad thing is we've kept in touch with everyone who was placed or grew up and moved on from the Kindertransport. Over half have had word their parents are deceased."

"Mary is the only one who hasn't had confirmation from the family yet," Honor said. "If you're moving what are you going to do about the home?"

"We aren't moving for at least a year or better. There are quite a few that are finishing school or will next year and most of those are planning to go on to college. A few like Hans have jobs lined up for when they graduate," Sybil replied. "Almost all the English children have heard from distant relatives who are willing to take them now the war is over. For one reason or another they couldn't take them when the war is on. Some were afraid they would be bombed again."

"So you're optimistic you'll get everyone settled or into a decent placement?" Brody asked.

"We think so and I have to admit with two of my own and another on the way and Alice due to deliver in another two months, I'm ready for a bit of time with just my own children," Sybil said. "I will most likely work for an orphanage again but through the day much like Lillian has done."

"I don't think Walter is too keen on the idea of living in Ireland," Honor commented.

"He's too busy planning on how he can sell used cars and if we can get a deal to sell a few new ones, he's hoping Da will let him work on the buying and selling when he is done school," Brody commented. "Tim doesn't care. He's like Declan. All he can think about it cheese."

"Fiala seems to think he would be a good store owner," Honor said.

"Whatever he decides," Brody said with a shrug. "He won't be done with school for a bit. Maybe he'll go on to university like our older brother."

"Do you think Uncle Kieran will come to Ireland? Da has applied for a pardon," Sybil asked.

"I honestly don't know," Brody replied. "He does need to take it easier. He should be retired but he won't hear of it. He's convinced I can't run a business with a bad arm and Arthur can't possibly be out in all kinds of weather even though he has for the last year." Brody rolled his eyes.

"He just wants to take care of you. Wait until you're a father," Sybil said. "You are going to be just like him. Over protective to a fault."

"Going to be. He already is," Honor said laughing.

"Quinlan is so over protective he's driving us all mad. He wants his children in private tutoring. Alice told him when he gets home he is quite welcome to take care of it. Until then the village school will be fine," Sybil said laughing. "Allison lives at the home so no one makes the connection to the Crawleys."

"Which is not a bad thing," Brody replied with a crooked grin. "Well, I better get back to it before Da has a legitimate complaint that I'm not getting the work done."

"I had best get back to work as well. With a house full of teenagers it seems like all I ever do is peel vegetables for the next meal." Sybil replied.

* * *

Chapter 24 – Making Decisions

Mary came into the cheese making room and threw her apron into the hamper for soiled laundry they had by the back door. She was gritting her teeth and her face was red in stark contrast to her usual cheerful demeanor. She went over to scold Declan.

"I have closed the front counter for the day. That Mrs. Upton was in. She told me the cheese I sold her wasn't fresh and demanded her money back," Mary said in annoyance. "She was so rude. I had just cut a fresh block too. She called me an ignorant foreignist…foreigner!" She corrected. "The people in this village are spoiled. Other places only have fresh cheese and clotted cream on delivery days. We should sell everything to the commercial buyers and only open the front on market days. I've had enough. I am going home." Mary grabbed her coat, hat and handbag and exited the shop with a bang of the door.

"She is right, you know," Mark said levelly. "The people here are spoiled and we could sell everything to the commercial buyers. It would be much easier."

"You're right. We should have switched over to selling to the commercial interests only months ago," Declan said with a sigh. "I'm holding on too tight to the way my Granddad did things. I know it."

"What are you thinking about the group moving to Ireland?" Mark inquired. "Do Mary and I need to start looking for other work?"

"No!" Declan said with a frown. "I've been meaning to talk to you about this for a bit. I want to make you a partner in the shop."

"Declan I can't accept this," Mark said seriously.

"Look Mark. You and Mary helped take care of my grandparents. If it wasn't for you Granddad would have worked himself till he dropped dead in his shoes and this place would have closed up. Anya would have never managed on her own."

"Your grandparents took care of us when we had nowhere to go," Mark replied seriously.

"You took care of each other and now I'm going to make you a partner whether you agree or not."

"I will accept," Mark said exchanging a quick hug and slap on the back with Declan.

"As far as moving to Ireland, I don't know. I'm not planning on it but I need to talk to Anya about it." Declan said.

Declan had been home a year from the navy. His older brother Quinlan had been back for a number of times over the last six months and was finally done with the War Department for good. He and Laim were determined to move to Ireland and open the motorcycle shop they had always dreamed off. Quinlan had more than enough money from his inheritance and was talking about buying a farm or enough land where they could all live in separate cottages. He had managed to talk their Uncle Tom into going and now Declan's father was seriously considering going along as well. Walter was finished school and was busy buying and selling cars from a lot beside the garage. Brody, Honor and Honor's husband had all but taken over the garage. It was more than time for his father to retire.

After work Declan told Anya the news he was making Mark a partner in the cheese shop and that they had come to the decision to only have the storefront open a half-day a week plus market day.

"That is a good choice. Mark deserves it for all the work he has done," Anya said. "We can all use more time to ourselves and there is enough business we will be taken care of."

"I was thinking we should walk over and talk to Quinlan later," Declan said slowly. "We could find out from him who is moving to Ireland for sure and what he has in mind."

"Declan do you want to move?" Anya questioned touching her husband's arm.

"I don't know. Do you? We're young. It would be a new start. I was thinking if Quinlan is planning to buy a large farm it could be a start for Gregor, too. He could run his own dairy heard," Declan said hesitantly. "He'll never afford to buy a farm in England or take over a tenancy."

"I would like to be away from the orphanage," Anya admitted quietly. "I had good times there but every time I see it I am reminded of why we came here."

"There are a lot of memories," Declan agreed. "I keep thinking Granddad will come walking out of the office or Gran will be home knitting and baking my favorite biscuits. I spent as much time with them as my parents growing up, maybe more."

Later that evening they walked over to Crawley House to see Quinlan with their son running along between them and playing with a twig he had found on the road. Crawley House seemed almost empty to Anya even though between Alice and Sybil they had six young children. The orphanage itself was down to nine children still living there.

"We heard from Levi," Alice told them as she showed them in. Harkin was off immediately playing with his cousins. "I don't know if you remember him Anya. He went to university to study to be a doctor."

"Yes, I remember him. He was here from almost the start the same as I," Anya replied.

"He's a doctor with the Red Cross now. He's in Poland working on the reunification," Alice said.

"Did his family survive?" Anya asked.

"No, not one relative," Alice replied with a sigh. It was a story they had heard too often.

"It is almost too much to bare," Anya said seriously.

"We've come over to talk to Quinlan and find out more about this move to Ireland," Declan said to change the subject.

"He's about somewhere," Alice replied. "Go and sit in the drawing room."

"So who is actually going?" Declan asked once they were all seated in the drawing room. Liam and Quinlan were both there as well as Sybil and Alice. Peter, Alice's brother had stopped in to visit.

"I'm taking over as Estate Agent from Uncle Tom," Peter said. "Ronan's decided to work with my father at the brewery so he'll be staying here as well."

"You're father should be thinking about retirement soon, shouldn't he?" Declan asked Peter.

"Yes it's time," Peter replied. "He'll get Ronan trained then step back."

"Congratulations are in order," Liam said. "Peter here is marrying Charlotte Crawley. She is Lady Mary's daughter."

"Lord Grantham keeps going on and on about the titles," Peter said with a groan. "The older generation doesn't understand they aren't that important anymore."

"They are to some," Liam reminded him.

"The estate won't keep going without a great deal of work," Peter pointed out. "Your father can attest to that and the lifestyles are going to have to change again and be even simpler than they were before the war."

"Our sisters are all coming to Ireland," Liam said. "They all want to have a change. They'll try it and see how they get on. Tim would be the only one coming with Uncle Kieran. Walter is planning to stay with Brody and Fiala. Honor of course is staying put as well."

"What are you thinking?" Quinlan asked his younger brother.

After they had discussed the possibilities for the move for an hour or so, and the younger children had worn themselves out playing, Declan and Anya got up to leave.

"It's settled then. You'll come with Liam and I when we go to look for property. Talk it over with Gregor. If he wants to move with us he can run the farm side of things and build a dairy operation if he is interested. We would have to know one way or another before the first of the year," Quinlan said. "We're thinking of going over to find a place in March."

"What do you think?" Declan asked his wife as they made their way home. Declan had his sleeping son in his arms.

"I think we talk to my brother and then go make a new life for ourselves," Anya replied. "We will leave the war behind us. Mary and Mark will have the cottage and the shop. They need room to start a family. If it doesn't work we can always come back."

By Christmas of 1946 things were settled and Declan was ready to make a trip to Ireland with his older brother and cousin in March. He couldn't help think it would be strange to be in a place where almost everyone he would meet had the same accent as himself. Outside of family celebrations he'd never experienced it. His father, Kieran had a stroke in November and had finally decided to retire. He still grumbled about handing over the business to the younger generation but the partial paralysis in his arm and droop to one side of his mouth had finally convinced him it was past time. There were schools and colleges in Ireland for Tim to attend the same as here and there would always be trips to visit family and friends.

His Uncle Tom had received a pardon earlier in the year. No one cared any longer about the hot-headed activities of a young idealistic man of twenty-six years earlier as the world was still reeling from the ravages of a world war. Ireland was dealing with its own problems of shortages and unemployment the same as England. There was just too much else to worry about.

Gregor had jumped at the chance to run his own dairy operation. Declan would produce cheese in a way he had always wanted. He wasn't fond of the commercial work necessity had pushed them into in England. He liked a small shop where there was a personal connection to the people who walked through the door. It would all work out. The war had pushed them all into a new world and it was now time to explore it.

_the end of Fitting In Part IV_


End file.
